Deep In The Heart Of Trouble by Deanne Gist

by admin | Jun 16, 2008 | Books

This week, the

Christian Fiction Blog Alliance

is introducing

Deep In The Heart Of Trouble

(Bethany House June 1, 2008)

by

Deeanne Gist

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Deanne Gist has been a busy lady. She had a career in elementary education. She raised four children. In fifteen years she has: run a home accessory/antique business, member of the press, penned freelance journalism for a few well-known publications, People, Parents, Family Fun and more. She was the CFO for her husband’s engineering company, she did all this in her home.

She also founded a publishing corporation for the purpose of developing, producing and marketing products which would reinforce family values, teach children responsibility and provide character building activities. In answer to Gist’s fervent prayers, God sent a mainstream publisher to her door who licensed her parenting I Did It!® product line and committed to publish the next generation of her system, thus freeing Gist to return to her writing.

Eight months later, she submitted A Bride Most Begrudging to Bethany House Publishers and they picked it up for their new “edgy inspirational” line of historical fiction. After its release in July 2005, Bride hit eight best seller lists and has sold over 100,000 copies and won the Christy Award for BEST ROMANCE 2006. The Measure of a Lady was her 2006 summer release. It hit five best seller lists and won the Christy Award for BEST ROMANCE 2007. Gist is contracted to have a new book come out every summer. Courting Trouble was her 2007 summer release and it hit three best seller lists.

Deeanne lives in Texas with her husband of twenty-four years. They have two kids in high school, two in college.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

A Texas-Sized Tale of Unexpected Love

Essie Spreckelmeyer is the last woman anyone in Corsicana, Texas, expected to see with a man on her arm. Independent and outspoken, she’s known more for riding bicycles in outrageous bloomers than for catching a man’s eye.

And the last man who seems willing to give her a second glance is Tony Morgan, newly hired at Spreckelmeyer’s oil company. The disinherited son of an oil baron, Tony wants most to restore his name and regain his lost fortune–not lose his heart to this headstrong blond. She confounds, contradicts, and confuses him. Sometimes he doesn’t know if she’s driving him toward the aisle or the end of his rope.

That’s how life is …Deep In The Heart Of Trouble

If you would like to read the first chapter, go HERE

Deeanne can be reached through the Contact link on her Website

“Christy Award winner Gist’s historical romances have increasingly gained popularity, combining witty dialog, well-balanced plots, and fully developed characters who seem almost real. Recommended for CF and romance collections.”
— Library Journal

“Gist does it again! Her signature prose is consistent and she delivers a thoroughly delightful and entertaining story that’s worthy of our time and attention. Not only won’t you want to put this book down, you’ll want to enjoy this story again and again.”
— JUNE TOP PICK, 4-1/2 STARS, Romantic Times, Jennifer Reyes

“Gist has once again written a delightfully humorous historical romance. After reading the first book in this series of two, I was anxious to get my hands on this one. Let me tell you, I was not disappointed … It is a spectacular, feel-good story which I highly recommend. You will definitely be glad you read it.”
-– FIVE STAR RATING, The Romance Studio, Brenda Talley

MY REVIEW:

Deeanne Gist has become one of my new favorite authors with her deft mix of humor, history, romance, and sometimes suspense. Deep in the Heart of Trouble was not a disappointment.

As a result of a disastrous romance, Essie Spreckelmeyer had decided to live her life without a man and was content helping her father run the family oil business and with her controversial Corsicana Velocipede Club. An independent, spirited, opinionated young woman, Essie was not exactly what most men were looking for in a wife anyway.

When his father died, Tony Morgan suddenly found himself disinherited from his family’s successful oil business. Determined to prove himself on his own merit, Tony took a job at Sullivan Oil as Tony Bryant. Set on learning every aspect of the oil business from the ground up, Tony definitely did not have the time or money for a woman in his life.

Neither Essie nor Tony were prepared for the sparks that flew as they fought their mutual attraction.

Against the backdrop of late nineteenth century Texas oil country, Deep in the Heart of Trouble is the story of loss and love, disappointment and determination, fear and faith, betrayal and loyalty, secrets and revelations. Each character is unique and adds to the distinct flavor of the book. Although Deep in the Heart of Trouble is a truly enjoyable read on its own, I would also recommend Courting Trouble for the first installment of Essie’s story.

Come and visit the blogs participating in the tour:

Adam at Northwoods Blumer

Alexis at Ramblings From Life

Amy at Simple Folk Schoolhouse

Amy at sprightly

Amy at My Life

Andrea at The Laughs Will Go On

Angela at One Baby, Seven Dogs, and a Mommy

April at Projecting A

Barbara at Victoria Hill Farm

Becky at Savvy Mom

Beth at The Write Message

Betsy Ann at Betsy Ann “Writer at Large!”

Bonnie at Bonnie Writes

Brandilyn at Forensics and Faith

Brittanie at A Book Lover

Camy at Camy Tang

Cara at the law, books, and life

Carolyn at Serenity

CeeCee at Book Splurge

Christy at At Split Ends

Courtney at A Mom Speaks

Dave at Dave Rhoades

Dave at Novel Spotlight

Deborah at books, movies and chinese food

Deborah at Country At Heart

Deborah at Comfort Joy Designs

Debra at Soul Reflections

Deena at A Peek At My Bookshelf

Delia at Gatorskunkz And Mudcats

Gina at Upon Reflection

Janis at The Nearsighted Bookworm

Janna at Cornhusker Academy

Jason at Spoiled For The Ordinary

Jenn at Blessed is She…

Jennifer at Musings on This, That, & The Other Thing

Jennifer at So Many Books…So Little Time

Jenny at Come Meet AusJenny

Jill at Christian Work At Home Moms

Jim B. at The Bedford Review

Joleen at timetotalk

Karen at Mommy of Three”

Karla at Ramblin’ Roads To Everywhere

Kelly at Scrambled Dregs

Kim at Window To My World

Kim at Rainy Day Diamonds

Kimberly at QuiddamChickee To Save The Day

Krista at Welcome To Married Life

Lacy at Novel Inspirations

Laura at Laura William’s Musings

Leah at Ponderings From My Heart

Leslie at A Little Bit Of Sunlight

Linda at Mocha With Linda

Linda at Faith In Love

Marcia at Writer-lee

Michelle at Edgy Inspirational Author

Michelle at Just A Minute

Michelle at Raising Little Women

Nora at Finding Hope Through Christian Fiction

Pam at Mom’s Mutterings

Pam at Daysong Reflections

Peg at Sips ‘n Cups Cafeteria

Pepper at Great Christian Fiction

Rachelle at Stifled Squeal

Becky at Becky’s Christian Reviews

Rel at Relz Reviewz

Ruth at Booktalk & more…

Ryan at loves to read

Sean at Bookmark Cafe

Sherry at Everything Moms

Stephanie at Punkin’ Press

Stormi at Mystery, Suspense, And God, Oh My!

Susan at Scribbles by Susan May Warren

Tabitha at 123pizza’s Weblog

Tamera at Tamera Alexander’s Blog

Tara at Tara’s View Of The World

Amber at Amber Miller

Valerie at In My Little World

Victoria at Footprints In The Sand

Virginia at CeCe Lane

Winter at Rodeo with A Twist Of Suspense

Margaret at Creative Madness

Never Ceese by Sue Dent

by admin | Jun 13, 2008 | Books

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book’s FIRST chapter!

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

This Friday the 13th — A vampire . . . a werewolf . . . can two who were wronged make it right? By their Faith!

and her book:

Never Ceese

Journey Stone Creations (February 1, 2006)
(Autographed copies can be ordered through www.thewriterscafepress.com/)

Sue Dent hails from Mississippi. She graduated from Mississippi College in 1983. Since graduating she’s sold computers, taught computer classes and has worked as a Technical Specialist IV for the Mississippi Department of Natural Resources.

Her first book Never Ceese was published in May of 2006. It has since been short-listed for a Bram Stoker Award in the category of Superior Achievement in a First Novel.

This past March Sue was an invited guest of Nicholas Grabowsky to the World Horror Convention in Toronto Canada. Never Ceese was also at Comic-Con 2007 in San Diego and represented by Head Press Publishing.

Of her writing, which continues to successfully cross both Secular and Christian boundaries, Sue says, “Well, somebody had to do it. Might as well be me.”

Her much anticipated sequel Forever Richard is due out in 2008 published by The Writers’ Café Press. As always, watch www.NeverCeese.com/ and www.ForeverRichard.com/ for updates.

Visit her at her website.

Product Details

List Price: $17.99
Hardcover: 300 pages
Publisher: Journey Stone Creations (February 1, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1599580179
ISBN-13: 978-1599580173

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

PROLOGUE

She was finally alone, all alone. Merideth had taken all six children with him, and she wouldn’t see them again until much later, after the church service Merideth was leading ended. The weathered, horse-drawn wagon had never looked so full, and for a brief moment, Julia wanted to go along, too. Holding back tears as they pulled away wasn’t easy. Yet when she could no longer hear the wagon wheels creaking along, or the steady plod of their mare pulling it, she regrouped. They would be back soon enough, and until then, she should enjoy this free time. After all, Merideth had planned this time alone for her. Julia wouldn’t spoil it by being sad.

She would work in the garden. No, she would sit in her garden, and absolutely no one would bother her. But first, she must tidy up. Yes, she thought. I will tidy up, then relax.

She started in the small kitchen, but only had to spend a little time there. Her two daughters had cleaned it before they left. She moved on. Instinctively, she kept looking for a child to come darting out, a daughter or a son, calling to her for one thing or another. She paused, fought back another tear. Even when they weren’t there, they were. She went along, picked up a shirt and scolded the child who had left it, though the child was nowhere around to be affected by her words. This time Julia laughed, realized how ridiculous she sounded. I’ve been a mother far too long! But she wouldn’t have it any other way. (more…)

A Promise for Tomorrow by Sara DuBose

by admin | Jun 12, 2008 | Books

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book’s FIRST chapter!

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

and her book:

A Promise for Tomorrow

Randall House Publications (March 25, 2008)

Sara DuBose is a motivational speaker and author of three other novels: Where Hearts Live, Where Love Grows, and Where Memories Linger. Sara is also author of Conquering Anxiety, published by the Presbyterian Church in America. Her other writing credits include numerous articles and stories for publications such as The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, Today’s Christian Woman, Virtue, Decision, The Christian Reader, and Family Life Today. She also appears in several anthologies published by Multnomah and Barbour. Sara received a first place fiction award from Putting Your Passion into Print and a first place fiction award from the Southeastern Writer’s Association. She currently travels as a speaker for seminars, festivals, civic clubs, schools and churches and may be contacted at www.saradubose.com. Sara and her husband live in Montgomery, Alabama. She is the mother of two daughters.

Visit her at her website.

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Chapter One

It was 2:50 Friday afternoon. In ten more minutes, the bell would ring and we’d be free for summer vacation. I doodled on a piece of notebook paper trying not to squirm, but every little curly-cue I made represented another second toward freedom. Our teacher, Miss Puckett, was in the middle of her farewell address, so I pretended to listen. Actually, I’d become a pretty good pretender during those past nine months. Miss Puckett was so boring.

From the corner of my right eye, I detected a slight movement, and I heard someone in our class said, “What the h_______ . . . ?”

Since I rarely heard anything more than “gol-ly,” I turned to the window by my desk. A round face pressed against the windowpane near me. Nose first. Flat. The eyes set in a wide stare. As I watched, the freak’s hand flew up in a wave. Instinctively, I waved back.

“Flea,” Miss Puckett called. “Face the front. All of you.”

“Who is it?” I heard someone say.

“It’s just a curious child. That’s all.” Miss Puckett had a strange expression on her face. I decided she must be tired of seeing children.

About to obey Miss Puckett’s command, I then saw a second figure—a man. He grabbed the waving hand and pulled it down to his side. The man’s face appeared strained, like someone trying to open a pill bottle with his teeth. Maybe he was scolding the child. I couldn’t tell. Mesmerized, I watched him twist her arm. The child seemed to stumble and then regain her balance. I think I saw her shudder as she brushed against his overalls.

Miss Puckett’s voice again broke into my thoughts, and I belatedly turned to face her. “Gather your supplies, class. The bell is about to ring. Once again, have a good summer. It’s been a pleasure having you in fifth grade.”

Glancing back to the window, I watched the two figures disappear around the corner of the building.

“My pleasure is to get out of here,” Betty muttered. We occupied the two desks closest to the window on the back row. Betty also lived across the street from me. As we scrambled for our books and headed for the door, Betty said, “You wanna race home?”

“No,” I said. “It’s too hot. You go ahead.” I grabbed a wad of hair and held it up from my neck. “Do you have a rubber band so I can make a ponytail?”

“No. Fix it at your house. Say, you’re not gonna hang around here, are you?” Betty glanced back to the window.

“Not for long. But I do want to know who they are.”

“Oh, you’re so nosey. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yeah, I guess but . . .”

“But what?” Betty countered.

“Nothing.”

“Well, I’m not gonna hang around school one minute longer than
I have to.”

As we left the room, my eyes drifted up to the calendar Miss Puckett kept posted by the door. Friday, May 27, 1955. I’d thought this day would never come. Betty scurried down the hall ahead of me but then called back over her shoulder.

“Can you come over later for a snack?”

“Sure.”

I watched Betty scoot down the steps and retrieve her bike parked next to mine in the metal frame stationed to the left of the front entrance.

Betty was my best friend, but we were about as different as corn bread and ice cream. She was always in a hurry to get home to her paper dolls or child’s embroidery kit. Not me. I liked to take my time, to look for adventure. But, frankly, it was hard to find adventure in Sugar Hill, especially when my dad was the pastor of the Presbyterian Church.

Standing at the top of the steps, my eyes gravitated to the familiar yellow bus parked in the bus lane. As usual, the bus driver’s shoulders were slumped toward the steering wheel. Somehow, I sensed he was glad this was his last round. What a boring job, driving 30 elementary and high-school kids back and forth through about 20 miles of Sugar Hill countryside.

Two or three other cars waited to pick up children. I recognized Mrs. Whittaker’s Buick. I knew it was Mrs. Whittaker’s because they were the only family in Sugar Hill with a Buick. Mr. Whittaker held the top spot with our Fairway Mill Company. No wonder he could drive a Buick. And, wouldn’t you know, his daughter, Gloria, had wound up in my fifth grade class right in the middle of the year. They were from Ohio, so Gloria knew more than the rest of us in the “hick town” of Sugar Hill, Alabama. At least, she thought so.

After the bus pulled away, I noticed an old black pickup truck parked across the street. It appeared empty and lonesome, like something you might see in a junkyard. I wondered if it might belong to the strange man who had jerked the girl away from the window.

Then I remembered how the odd couple had turned toward the side of our building. I decided to run down the steps and take the turn leading to the senior high school. Maybe I’d at least see my brother, Rand, and we could ride home together.

Like an old married couple, our two school buildings somehow managed to hold on to each other by a covered walkway at the lower level. A parking lot for teachers sat in front of the high-school building, but we kids used it for fancy bike riding and skating whenever we had the chance.

When I reached the high school, several of my brother’s friends nodded or waved. Rand’s best friend, Frank, liked to tease, so he called and said, “Hi, Squirt. Lookin’ for Rand? He’s already headed home.”

“No, I’m just lookin’. Did you see a weird man and a little girl come
by here?”

“You mean Ole Man Boyd and his daughter?”

“I guess.” I switched my books to the other hip.

“Yeah, I might have seen them earlier. Can’t imagine what they are
doing here though.” Frank rolled his eyes. “That girl can’t possibly go to school.”

“Why not?”

“She’s retarded. Haven’t you heard about Mavis?”

“No, not much. I do know a Mr. Boyd who lives out by the lumberyard.” I tossed my head in that general direction. “And everybody knows about his No Trespassing sign.”

“Yeah, right. Mavis is his daughter and she’s as crazy as a loon.”
Frank wheeled his eyes again, more dramatic this time. “I’ve heard she stays locked up most of the time. Reckon her dad can’t help it since he has to work.”

“No, I s’pose not,” I said.

“Watcha doing down this way?”

“I want to see the girl again. Guess I feel sorry for her.”

“Don’t waste your worry. Ain’t one thing you can do. Boyd probably dropped by here checking for some extra janitor work or something. Besides, isn’t your mama gonna wonder where you are?”

“Maybe. But. . . .”

“Look, go home. Okay?”

“I will in a minute. I hafta go inside to the bathroom.”

Frank gave me a funny grin. I suppose he wondered why I hadn’t thought to do that before leaving the elementary school. I just smiled and headed inside.

To tell the truth, I really wanted to stall, to decide what to do next. Somehow, I’d hoped this summer was going to be different from all the others. Maybe Gloria was right. Maybe we did live in a hick town.

When I stepped into the senior high girl’s bathroom, my stomach churned at the sight. The whole area looked like a crazy person had come through throwing paper towels and bits of toilet paper everywhere. Who had done it? Mavis crossed my mind, but one person couldn’t create this much damage in a quick trip to the bathroom. This mess seemed like a premeditated attack or maybe a misguided attempt to celebrate the end of school.

Suddenly, I wanted to wash my hands, but at the first sink, a pukey
feeling crawled inside my throat at the sight of a large chunk of gooey caramel nestled by the drain. On the mirror above the sink, a large blob of bright pink lipstick formed a grotesque kiss on the glass, blurring the strange dark eyes glaring back at me. In fact, as I studied my image in the mirror, my eyes seemed bloodshot. Maybe it was the lipstick. I frowned at my limp bangs and pale face and decided I’d better get out of there before my lunch came up.

As I stepped outside, the air felt warm and still. Several dark clouds swept across the sky. One cloud hovered over a small pecan grove nearby. Maybe we were in for a storm. The thought of cooling rain cheered me up as I headed back toward the hill.

When I reached the front of the elementary building to get my
bike, Mr. Boyd and Mavis were still nowhere in sight, even though the black pickup remained across the street.

Maybe the couple I’d seen wasn’t them after all. Maybe the creepy man had kidnapped that little girl and planned to take her who knew where. Right then, I decided to squelch the scary thoughts and go home.

As I rode past the high school and football field, my mind flashed back to Mr. Boyd’s No Trespassing sign. I remembered Rand and Iriding our bikes down by the lumberyard in the spring. Once we almost crossed his fence, but we chickened out.

When I got even with Corley’s cotton field, two things happened. It
started to sprinkle, and I was aware of something behind me. I hugged the left side of the road and peddled a little faster. A flash of lightening sliced the sky.

Just then, I saw our dog, Splendid, running toward me. She must have wondered why I wasn’t home yet, so she’d come searching for me. The minute she spotted the bike, she hesitated and started wagging her tail. I braked quickly, hoping to tell her to wait. But it didn’t happen. She bounded out into the road. I glanced behind me, recognized the pickup just as Splendid crossed, and yelled, “Stop!”

Then I heard the sound of brakes squealing, and I saw a splotch of blue denim overalls as the driver’s door flew open.

“Git that flea-bitten dog off the road!” the man yelled, stepping into the rain.

The pickup door blocked my view, and I couldn’t see Splendid. Was she okay? I threw my bike into the last thin row of cotton and ran. Half-sitting, half-lying in the middle of the road, Splendid looked limp. I didn’t see any blood, and she didn’t whimper. Then, as I bent over, her tail thumped the gravel. I prayed the rain would stop.

“Did you hit her?” I yelled over my shoulder, my teeth clenched.

“Naw, I didn’t hit the dumb dog, but you’d better git her out of
here before I do.”

Splendid gazed up at me with such sad eyes. I started to pick her up, but then I heard someone say, “She good dog. I touch her?”

The first thing I saw was scuffed white patent shoes, like the kind I wear on Sundays. But these shoes were dingy and definitely too tight for the thick feet they encased. I kept my hand on Splendid as my eyes traveled up the child’s body. I recognized the dress I’d seen in the window but now it hung on her like an old sheet thrown over a chair. And then her face. Flat nose. Blank eyes. Stringy blond hair.

The rain stopped.

Quickly, I turned back to Splendid because I felt her lick my hand.
She carefully staggered to her feet and wagged her tail.

“Are you all right, girl?” Splendid wagged some more. “Are you just
scared?”

“Hug her?” the child asked.

“No, Mavis, the dog might have mange.” The overalls moved forward toward the child.

“My dog does not have mange.” I gave the monster my best stare.

“We took her to the doctor for her shots two weeks ago. She is in perfect
health.”

“Perfect health until she gits killed. You’d better keep her off the
road.” He grabbed Mavis and pushed her toward the truck. “Get back
inside, Mavis.”

But Mavis balked, giving Splendid a longing look. “Touch?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “You may touch.” I met Boyd’s eyes as if to say, Don’t you dare try to stop her. A peculiar odor, or taste, seemed to hang in the air around Mr. Boyd, but I decided it must be my own sour stomach.

Mavis hesitated. Then, like a toddler reaching for an ornament on the Christmas tree, she ran her flat palm across Splendid’s head. Splendid must have sensed her need and licked her arm.

“He like me,” she said, nodding her head like a rag doll. “I had cat,
but he gone.”

“Of course he likes you. You are a sweet girl.”

“I sweet girl?”

“Yes,” I said, “I’m sure you are.”

“It’s time to go, Mavis.” Boyd adjusted the strap on his overalls and
pointed. “Get back in the truck.”

“I go now. Bye, dog.”

On a sudden impulse, Mavis reached down and patted Splendid again, but since Mr. Boyd was already holding the passenger side door open, I don’t think he noticed.

Splendid and I waited on the roadside by my bike as he cranked up. Without looking at me again, he pulled away, and I watched Mavis turn in her seat. I raised my hand at the last minute, and I saw her hand flutter just like it had done outside our fifth grade window.

MY REVIEW:

A Promise For Tomorrow is a nostalgic journey into a small town during the mid 1950’s. Told through the viewpoint of Flea (Fannie Lea), a young pastor’s daughter, A Promise For Tomorrow chronicles her life in Sugar Hill during the summer after fifth grade and the rest of that year. Although the atmosphere of the book brings to mind To Kill a Mockingbird, this book stands on its own and is in no way a copycat.

Throughout this beautifully told story, Flea and her brother Rand enjoy their youthful freedom yet are always aware of the expectations imposed upon them as pastor’s children. Nevertheless, their explorations take them into some dicey situations, one of which haunts Flea for months.

A Promise For Tomorrow is the story of one young girl’s dedication to doing what is right and the effects her compassion, courage, and faith have on others in her life. I would recommend A Promise For Tomorrow to anyone who enjoys a slow paced, nostalgic look back at recent history.

House of Dark Shadows & Watcher in The Woods by Robert Liparulo

by admin | Jun 11, 2008 | Books

This week, the

Christian Fiction Blog Alliance

is introducing a double pair

House of Dark Shadows

and

Watcher In The Woods

(Books 1 and 2 in the Dreamhouse Kings Series)

Thomas Nelson (May 6, 2008)

by

Robert Liparulo

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Robert is an award-winning author of over a thousand published articles and short stories. He is currently a contributing editor for New Man magazine. His work has appeared in Reader’s Digest, Travel & Leisure, Modern Bride, Consumers Digest, Chief Executive, and The Arizona Daily Star, among other publications. In addition, he previously worked as a celebrity journalist, interviewing Stephen King, Tom Clancy, Charlton Heston, and others for magazines such as Rocky Road, Preview, and L.A. Weekly.

Robert is an avid scuba diver, swimmer, reader, traveler, and a law enforcement and military enthusiast. He lives in Colorado with his wife and four children.

Robert’s first novel painted a scenario so frighteningly real that six Hollywood producers were bidding on movie rights before the novel was completed. His acclaimed debut novel, Comes A Horseman, is being made into a major motion picture by producer Mace Neufeld and his short story “Kill Zone” was featured in the anthology Thriller, edited by James Patterson.

Bob has sold the film rights to his second book, GERM. And he is writing the screenplay for a yet-to-be-written political thriller, which sold to Phoenix Pictures, for Andrew Davis (The Fugitive, The Guardian) to direct!

And his third book Deadfall. debuted to rave reviews!

ABOUT THE BOOKS:

House of Dark Shadows

(Dreamhouse Kings Book 1)
Dream house…or bad dream?

When the Kings move from L.A. to a secluded small town, fifteen-year-old Xander is beyond disappointed. He and his friends loved to create amateur films . . . but the tiny town of Pinedale is the last place a movie buff and future filmmaker wants to land.

But he, David, and Toria are captivated by the many rooms in the old Victorian fixer-upper they moved into–as well as the heavy woods surrounding the house.

They soon discover there’s something odd about the house. Sounds come from the wrong directions. Prints of giant, bare feet appear in the dust. And when David tries to hide in the linen closet, he winds up in locker 119 at his new school.

Then the really weird stuff kicks in: they find a hidden hallway with portals leading off to far-off places–in long-ago times. Xander is starting to wonder if this kind of travel is a teen’s dream come true . . . or his worst nightmare.

Watcher In The Woods

(Dreamhouse Kings Book 2)
It’s not just the house that’s keeping secrets.

Pretending everything’s all right is harder than it sounds. But the Kings know that even if they told the truth about the bizarre things happening in their house, no one would believe them. They’re hyper-focused on rescuing their lost family member before anyone finds out what’s going on.

But when a stranger shows up to take their house, their options start dwindling fast. Why would he be so interested in a run-down old place? And what secret is he hiding–just as he hides the scars that crisscross his body?

The mystery gets stranger with each passing day. Will the Kings be able to find a way to harness the house’s secrets and discover who is watching their every move before another gets snatched into an unknown world?

The Dreamhouse Kings Series has three contests that you will not want to miss…Dream the Scene, a weekly “Thanks For Reading Trivia contest, and the Dreamhouse Kings Street Team contest. There are also free bookplates that you can request, and a chapter of each book that you can download!

You can get all those goodies HERE.

Bob can be reached through the Contact link on his Website

MY REVIEW:

Robert Liparulo has done it again with House of Dark Shadows and Watcher In The Woods. Both books are action filled, suspenseful, and mysterious. In my opinion, Robert Liparulo is a master at messing with the reader’s mind. Even though I am quite a bit older than his target audience for this series, I admit he has me hooked. I can’t wait to read the next volume to discover what will happen next. I would definitely recommend this book for teens (and even adults) who enjoy a good fantasy/mystery.

Come visit the blogs participating in the tour:

A Bride So Fair by Carol Cox

by admin | Jun 11, 2008 | Books

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book’s FIRST chapter!

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

and her book:

A Bride so Fair

Barbour Publishing, Inc. (April 1, 2008)

CAROL COX is a native of Arizona, whose time is devoted to being a pastor’s wife, mom to her grown son, and a home-school teacher to her daughter, church pianist, and youth worker. She loves anything that she can do with her family: reading, traveling, historical studies, and outdoor excursions. She is also open to new pursuits on her own, including genealogy research, crafts, and the local historical society. She plans to write more historical inspirational romance, in which her goals are to encourage Christian readers with entertaining and uplifting stories and to pique the interests of non-Christians who might read her novels.

Other Novels by Carol:

Fair Game, Ticket to Tomorrow, Land of Promise, Golden Gate Gazette-Love and Suspense Make Headlines in Historic San Francisco

Visit her at her website.

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Chapter One

SEPTEMBER 1893

Stop, thief!” ?The commanding bellow cut through the pleas-ant chatter of the crowds strolling the grounds of the World’s Columbian Exposition.

Emily Ralston shielded her eyes against the noonday sun and scanned the gaily dressed fairgoers on Government Plaza, trying to spot the source of the commotion.

A lanky youth burst through a cluster of women and children on the far side of the plaza, scattering them like tenpins. Shrill exclamations followed him as he bolted past the ladies to the middle of the open area, where he slowed and glanced quickly from one end of its broad expanse to the other.

A stocky man in shirtsleeves charged through the same group, evoking more outraged squawks. He stopped short, gasping like a winded horse while he scanned the crowd.

“Hey, you!” he bellowed and started off in hot pursuit of the boy. In his haste, he collided with a young matron holding a small girl in her arms, nearly toppling them to the ground. The man halted long enough to steady the pair, although the infuriated look he cast in the boy’s direction showed his longing to continue the chase.

At the man’s angry shout, the fleeing youth looked over his shoulder and picked up speed. Emily saw him snap his hand to one side and watched a paper container arc through the air and disappear behind a potted palm.

Emily recognized the signs of someone doing something he shouldn’t. She balanced on the balls of her feet, poised for action. She could never keep up with the long-legged adolescent if she tried to follow him across the fairgrounds, but there was more than one way to foil a troublemaker.

The boy changed course and pounded across the pavement in her direction. Emily smiled. She waited until the last instant before he reached the spot where she stood then stepped into his path.

“Stop right there!” she demanded.

The boy’s eyes flared wide when he saw her blocking his escape. His feet scrambled for purchase as he veered abruptly to the right. Just as he passed, Emily darted forward and nabbed him by the ear.

“Ow!” The lad looked down at Emily with an astonished expression. “Leggo my ear!” He made as if to wrench himself out of her grasp, but a quick twist of her wrist brought him to his knees.

Emily allowed herself a brief moment of smugness. It wasn’t the first time she had been victorious against an opponent larger than herself. Growing up at the Collier Children’s Home had given her plenty of time to learn how to equalize a difference in size.

The stocky man raced up to them, puffing like a steam engine. “Thank you, miss,” he gasped. “That was quite a catch.”

Taking command of Emily’s captive, he seized the boy by his upper arm and jerked him to his feet. “Where are the goods you stole, you young guttersnipe?”

The look of alarm slid off the boy’s face, to be replaced by a cocky grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not,” the man mocked. “Why were you running, if you hadn’t just stolen a package of Cracker Jacks right off the counter of my stand?”

Emily felt her jaw go slack. Cracker Jacks? She had risked her own safety for nothing more than a container of the new popcorn, peanuts, and molasses confection?

Looking more confident by the second, the boy shook his head. “I was just walking along, and you started shouting and chasing me.” He shrugged. “I thought you must be crazy. No one could blame me for running when someone so much bigger than me was on my tail.”

His captor looked at Emily with a glint of humor shining in his eyes. “It doesn’t look to me like it takes all that much in the way of size to get you under control.” His grin faded, and he gave the boy a shake. “Now where are the Cracker Jacks you stole?”

The boy shrugged again. “I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong person.”

Emily broke into the exchange. “Then what was that I saw you throw away?”

The youth paled, and the vendor turned his attention back to Emily. “You saw him throw something?”

“Behind that potted palm over there.” Emily walked briskly toward the plant and reached behind it, retrieving a paper package that rattled when she shook it. She returned to the waiting pair and held out the parcel. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

The man took it with a grateful smile. “Thank you, miss. I’ll be obliged if you’ll stay around until I summon one of the Columbian Guards so you can tell him what you saw.”

Emily shook her head. “I’m sorry. I work at the Children’s Building here on the fairgrounds, and my lunch break is nearly over.” From deep within the massive Manufactures Building, she heard the clock in its alabaster tower chime the three-quarter hour. If she wanted to keep her job, she’d better get back to work and look sharp about it.

The man’s face fell. “If you don’t, it will be my word against his. I left my nephew watching my stand so I could catch this young rascal, and who knows what kind of mess he’ll have made of things by the time I get back? The least you can do is help me out.”

Emily wavered. Her supervisor took a decidedly dim view of tardiness, but the smug expression on the boy’s face decided her. “All right, but only for a moment.”

It took far longer than that for the guard to finish taking
her statement. With the thanks of the vendor ringing in her ears, she set off once more toward the Children’s Building. In the distance, she heard a clock chiming the hour.

“Oh no.” She glanced from side to side, taking note of the throngs of people dotting the broad walkways. None of them seemed to be paying a bit of attention to her. Taking heart from this, Emily hiked up the hem of her skirt, planted her hand on top of her hat to keep it from blowing off, and sprinted headlong across the plaza, paying scant attention to the gleaming white buildings as she raced over the bridges spanning the lagoon to the Wooded Island and then to the far shore. From there, a quick dash put her at the front of the Children’s Building.

She slumped against the outer door with one palm pressed against her heaving chest. When she managed to catch her breath, she pushed the arched door open and stepped inside. If she could assume her seat behind the reception desk before—

“Your lunch hour ended precisely three minutes ago.”

Emily skidded to a halt and turned to face the gaunt woman standing against the opposite wall. “I’m sorry, Miss Strickland. I—”

“If you plan to continue working here, Miss Ralston, I would suggest you make it a point to be punctual.” Her supervisor’s cold stare left no doubt about her disapproval.

“Of course, ma’am.” Emily ordered her knees to quit shaking and tried her best to appear composed as she hung her straw boater on the hat rack and walked toward her desk. Lucy Welch, her blue eyes shining with sympathy, rose from the heavy wooden chair to let Emily take her seat.

Emily cast a grateful look at her friend; then she turned to bestow a wobbly smile upon the woman and boy who stood waiting in front of her desk. “How may I help you?”

“Could we finish here, please?” The young matron tapped her foot and looked daggers at Emily. “I would much rather be outside viewing the fair instead of waiting for you all to sort yourselves out. I’m not certain I want to leave Alexander here if this is any indication of the competency of your staff.”

At the edge of her vision, Emily saw Miss Strickland’s rigid posture grow even more erect. She fumbled with the heavy black book that lay open on her desk. “I apologize for the delay. I wouldn’t have been late, except—”

“Excuses are unacceptable.” Miss Strickland’s harsh voice broke in. “I don’t tolerate tardiness for any reason.”

Emily clamped her lips shut to hold back the explanation she longed to give. She ought to have known better than to tarry long enough to give the Columbian Guard her version of what had transpired, but she couldn’t find it within herself to let that boy get away with stealing the vendor’s merchandise.

She looked up at the boy’s mother and forced a smile. “If you’ll just give me some information, I’ll check Alexander in and you can be on your way.” She entered his name and his mother’s in the ledger then pinned a numbered tag to the boy’s back and handed his mother a claim check bearing the same number. “Please keep this in a safe place. You’ll need it when you come back to pick up your son. Miss Welch will take Alexander to the gymnasium. I’m sure he’ll enjoy that.”

She beckoned to Lucy, who had been hovering in the back-ground, then turned back to the boy’s mother. “Enjoy your time on the grounds. He will be well cared for.”

Looking somewhat mollified, the woman slipped the ticket into her reticule and turned to leave. Just before she reached the door, it swung open. A man in the uniform of the Columbian Guards smiled and held it open for her; then he stepped inside. His glance wavered between Miss Strickland and Emily before he approached the reception desk.

She stared up at him, panicking at the thought that her attempt to do the right thing was going to cause her even more difficulty. “I already told the other guard everything I know.”

Miss Strickland raised her eyebrows and moved toward the desk with a firm stride. “Bad enough to be tardy. What other trouble have you gotten yourself into?”

“It’s no trouble of this young lady’s making.” The guard stepped to one side, and Emily realized a small boy encased in a heavy woolen coat stood behind him. The tall guard lifted the toddler into his arms and smoothed the boy’s tousled blond hair. A smile lifted the corners of his dark mustache when the boy sniffled and snuggled against his shoulder.

Then he turned the smile on Emily, and she felt as if a giant vacuum had sucked all the air out of the room. She stared open-mouthed until Miss Strickland prodded her between her shoulder blades. Emily sat bolt upright and felt her face flame. “How may I help you?”

Before the guard could respond, Miss Strickland leaned toward Emily and looked her straight in the eye. “I expect a high degree of professionalism from you, Miss Ralston. Your attitude reflects on the entire staff of the Children’s Building. Please keep that in mind.” Her heels clacked against the floor as she crossed the open court that occupied the center of the building and disappeared down one of the side corridors.

Emily drew her first easy breath since the larcenous boy had crossed her path. She knew perfectly well what she had to do, and she could do it much better without her supervisor looking over her shoulder. She nodded a greeting at a couple who entered with two small children in tow then turned back to the waiting guard.

“I’m sorry for the interruption. What can I do for you?”

The dark-haired guard hiked the child higher on his shoulder. “This little fellow seems to have lost his family.”

Emily took a closer look at the little boy, noting the tear streaks on his cheeks. He couldn’t be more than three years old. She felt her heart go out to him. Standing to put herself on a level with the child, she adopted a cheerful tone. “We have lots of things for you to do until we find your parents. Would you like to stay here while this nice man tries to find them?”

The youngster buried his face in the guard’s neck and shook his head. “I want Mama.”

Emily swallowed hard. She reached up to rub his back with a gentle touch. “What’s your name?”

The boy sniffled again then raised his head and looked at her. “Adam.”

“All right, Adam.” At least he was old enough to tell her that much. Emily turned toward the desk and pulled the ledger over to her. “I’ll write your name down here in this book, and then a friend of mine will come to take you to a room with lots of toys. You can play with them until your mama comes for you. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Adam rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. Emily could see his lower lip quiver.

She dipped the pen in the inkwell and wrote “Adam” on the next blank line. She hesitated a moment with the pen poised in the air. “Do you know your last name?”

Adam shook his head.

“Do you know your mama’s real name?”

He gave the same response.

The guard drew nearer and said in a low voice, “Some people found him over by the north bandstand. When the performance was over, everybody walked away but this little guy.”

The father who had just entered with his family stepped forward. “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but overhear. I thought I recognized the boy. My family stopped to hear the performance at the bandstand, too. We saw his mother leave. I thought at the time it was awfully peculiar for her to go away and let such a young child stay there on his own.”

The guard turned an intense gaze on the man. “You saw her leave?”

“That’s right. In a hurry, too. She was practically running.”

“Could you give me a description?” The guard set Adam down beside Emily, and the two men moved a few feet away.

Emily checked the couple’s children in, half her attention on the task at hand, the other half focused on the story the father told while the guard made notes in a little notebook he pulled from his pocket.

“She was a nice-looking woman,” the man said. “Blond hair, dark blue dress.”

“With a gored skirt and a lovely shirred bodice,” his wife put in. “Very up-to-date. Her hat was trimmed with matching silk ribbon and ostrich feathers.”

Her husband chuckled. “Trust a woman to notice all the details of fashion.”

Emily handed two claim checks to the children’s mother and rang the small brass bell on her desk to summon Lucy.

Lucy appeared a moment later and gave all three children a bright smile. “Are you ready to come with me?” She bent to take Adam’s hand, but Emily motioned her away.

“Just those two for now,” she said. “Come back in a few minutes, and I’ll explain.”

The couple took their leave of their children. “We’ll be back when your mother has worn me out seeing all the exhibits she’s interested in,” their father joked.

When the door closed behind them, the guard walked over and knelt beside Adam. “I’ll go out and look for your mother now. You can stay here with Miss. . .” He looked up at Emily.

“Ralston,” she supplied.

“Miss Ralston.” He gave her another one of those smiles that made her stomach do flip-flops. “She’ll make sure the people here take good care of you.”

The little boy’s chin wobbled, but he turned to Emily and placed his hand in hers. “Hello, Miss Rost—Ralt—”

Emily smiled down at him. “Why don’t you call me Miss Emily?”

Adam nodded, his expression solemn. “Miss Em’ly,” he re-peated. His quick acceptance sent a rush of maternal feelings through her.

“Why don’t we take off your coat?” she suggested. “It’s lovely weather today, and I think you’ll feel much better without it. I’ll make sure we keep it safe so you don’t lose it, all right?”

Adam hesitated then allowed her to pull the heavy coat off. Emily bit her lip at the sight of the sailor suit he wore, with its middy blouse and knee pants. This child was just too precious for words!

While she tried to make Adam more comfortable, the guard left to go search for the child’s parents. A moment later, Lucy hurried back into the reception area. “What was it you couldn’t tell me before?”

“You’ll have to wait a little longer,” Emily told her. “Adam, this is Miss Lucy. She’ll take you to those toys I told you about.”

The little boy studied Lucy then reached out to take the hand she extended and toddled off beside her.

Free of responsibility for the moment, Emily propped her elbow on the desk and rested her cheek on her palm. She stared at the front door, lost in thought.

“He is a handsome fellow, isn’t he?” Lucy’s voice came from right behind her.

Startled out of her reverie, Emily jerked upright and banged her elbow on the edge of the desk. She yelped and glared at Lucy.

“Sorry.” Lucy’s unrepentant grin belied the sincerity of her apology. “I didn’t mean to make you jump. . .that much, at least.” Her grin faded. “And I truly am sorry about what happened with Miss Strickland. I tried to cover for you when I saw you were late, but she came in and caught me at it.” She wrinkled her nose. “I should have known it wouldn’t work.”

Emily sighed. “It’s all right. It was my fault for not being back on time. I knew Miss Strickland wouldn’t be happy about it, but she positively glared at me!” She rubbed her sore elbow and winced. “I hope she doesn’t fire me. I don’t want to lose the first job I ever had.”

“First paying job, you mean. You’ve been a hard worker ever since I’ve known you. And don’t worry about Miss Strickland. Did you know she has already gone through six receptionists in the four months the fair has been going on? I got that from Ruthie Lawson in the Day Nursery.” She looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “And they weren’t all fired by Miss Strickland, either. Some of them got so fed up with her demanding ways that they up and left. People just don’t do that on a whim, as hard as jobs are to find these days.”

“But that’s my point. People are hungry for jobs right now. She knows she doesn’t have to keep me here.”

Lucy snorted. “Listen to me. While you’re sitting here checking children in and out of the building all day, I have a chance to talk to the other employees. You are the best receptionist they’ve had yet. Everyone says so.”

Emily hoped her friend was right. The thought of losing her job was always an underlying fear. With the silver crash, masses of people were unemployed, making it harder than ever to find work. But even if jobs were as plentiful as the sand on the shores of Lake Michigan, she would hate to leave the Children’s Building. Providing a safe, nurturing place for children to play and learn while their parents saw the fair was a task she could embrace with her whole being, and taking part in such a worthwhile endeavor filled her with immense satisfaction.

She had to admit that Lucy was usually right in her assessment of any gossip she managed to overhear. Maybe she could relax. . . just a little, anyway.

Something pulled on her sleeve, and she realized Lucy was shaking her arm.

Emily blinked. “Did you say something?”

“Back in dreamland again?” Her friend sighed then took on the air of a patient teacher. “I said you never answered my question about the guard. Don’t you think he’s handsome?”

Emily reached for a stack of papers. “I suppose so. I didn’t really notice.”

Lucy snorted again. “Of course you didn’t.” She moved toward the back of the building. “Call me when you need me.”

The front door swung open again, and Emily whirled around, wondering if the guard had accomplished his mission so quickly. Her heart sank when she saw the slender man who stood before her dressed in a double-breasted serge jacket and flannel trousers.

“And how is my favorite receptionist today?”

Emily pressed her lips together and didn’t answer. She watched as Raymond Willard Simmons III crossed the floor with a swagger that reminded her of a strutting peacock.

What would it take to make him quit stopping by? Emily dreaded his unannounced visits almost as much as she dreaded arousing Miss Strickland’s ire. If only she could tell him to leave her alone! But Raymond’s father was one of the fair administrators, and upsetting Mr. Simmons would upset Miss Strickland. That was something Emily did not intend to do by choice.

She tried to arrange her features in a pleasant expression while Raymond pulled a paper bag from behind his back like a magician producing a dove from his hat.

“Something to satisfy your sweet tooth.” He set the bag on Emily’s desk with a flourish. When she made no move toward the gift, he opened the bag and withdrew a caramel, holding it out for her inspection. “From one of the finest candy makers in Chicago. I hope that when you enjoy them, you’ll think of me.”

Emily kept her smile in place, though what she would really enjoy doing was telling him never to darken the door of the Children’s Building again. “Thank you, Mr. Simmons.”

His broad smile drooped. “I thought we agreed we knew each other well enough to use our Christian names. Aren’t you going to call me Ray? That’s what my family calls me. . . and my closest friends.” He said the last few words in an intimate whisper that was probably intended to make her heart melt. She ground her teeth instead.

“It really wouldn’t be proper.” Emily put all the primness she could muster into the statement.

Raymond moved closer and rested his elbows on the desk, putting his face on a level with hers. “Perhaps that’s true here at the fairgrounds, where my father and I are seen as leaders. But away from the workplace, I see no reason to maintain such formality.” He moved his hand toward hers. Emily immediately began straightening the papers on her desk.

Raymond didn’t appear to notice the slight. “What about going to dinner with me tonight? It’s time you got away from the fairgrounds and that dreary boardinghouse and saw something of Chicago. We could eat at the Palmer House—”

“Without a chaperone? That would hardly sit well with your family, would it? What would they think if word got back to them that you had been seen in public with a young lady they’ve never met?”

Raymond’s face fell, and Emily knew she had scored a hit. His position as a member of one of Chicago’s leading families meant everything to him, and he would do nothing to bring about his parents’ disapproval or to risk their social standing.

Three couples entered and formed a line behind Raymond. Emily lifted her chin and tried to look as businesslike as possible. “I really must get back to work, Mr. Simmons.”

Raymond straightened and gave her a sour look. He opened his mouth as if to say more but settled for a nod and exited, leaving Emily free to enter names and distribute claim checks.

Alone once again, Emily tapped a stack of papers against the desk to square their edges then set them neatly in the upper left-hand corner of her desk. Spotting the bag of caramels Raymond had left, she set it in her bottom desk drawer, out of sight. She didn’t want Miss Strickland to find things in less than perfect order.

While she continued to straighten her work area, her mind turned back to the little boy the guard had brought in. There was nothing unusual about one of the Columbian Guards bringing a lost child to the Children’s Building—it had happened several times already in the two weeks she’d worked there. But something about that little tyke tugged at her heartstrings.

If she could feel such a connection toward a child she had just met, his mother must be frantic. Emily paused in the act of scooping up an armload of file folders. A frown tightened her forehead. Why would anyone go off and leave a child that age alone? And to leave in such a hurry, practically running, the man who witnessed it had said.

She pulled open the file drawer and slid the folders into their places. A woman running through the crowded fairgrounds would be unusual enough to draw notice from any number of people.

Emily wrinkled her nose. She had probably drawn a fair amount of notice herself with her undignified dash across the plaza earlier.

MY REVIEW:

A Bride So Fair is a romance novel with so much more. Set against the historical backdrop of the Chicago World’s Fair, A Bride So Fair is a tale filled with murder, mystery, danger, suspense, romance, courage, and faith. After Stephen finds a lost little boy at the fair, he takes him to the Children’s Building where Emily becomes involved in caring for the child when his mother never claims him. The two are drawn into a web of danger and intrigue that draws them closer together as they endeavor to protect Adam – and themselves. I would recommend A Bride So Fair to anyone who loves a good mystery, historical fiction, romance or all of the above.

The Summer of Cotton Candy by Debbie Viguié

by admin | Jun 10, 2008 | Books

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book’s FIRST chapter!

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

and her book:

The Summer of Cotton Candy

Zondervan (May 1, 2008)

Debbie Viguié has been writing for most of her life and holds a degree in creative writing from U. C. Davis. Debbie loves theme parks and has worked at both Knott’s Berry Farm and Disneyland in California. When Debbie is not busy writing, she enjoys traveling with her husband, Scott. Debbie grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area and now lives in Hawaii.

Other Sweet Seasons Novels:

The Fall of Candy Corn
The Winter of Candy Canes

Product Information:

List Price: $9.99
Reading level: Young Adult
Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (May 1, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 031071558X
ISBN-13: 978-0310715580

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Chapter One

Candace Thompson wondered where her life had gone wrong. Maybe when she was fourteen, she should have babysat her bratty cousin when her parents asked. Maybe when she was seven, if she hadn’t locked the teacher out of the classroom, this wouldn’t be happening to her. No, maybe her life went all wrong when she was three and she knocked down the girl with the pigtails who had stolen Mr. Huggles, her stuffed bear. Yes, the more she thought about it, that must have been the moment that started her on the path that led to the special punishment she was now suffering.

It was the first day of summer vacation, but for Candace, it might as well have been the last. She sat in a dark dreary office, signing away her freedom. The decree had come down from her father: she had to get a job. No job, no cash. No cash, no movies or hanging with her friends. It didn’t matter to him that if she had a job she wouldn’t have time to do the things she would need the money for.

She took a deep breath as she finished filling out the last form and handed it across the desk to the recruiter, Lloyd Peterson, a strange-looking man in a frumpy brown suit whom she was convinced had to be a perv. Hadn’t she seen him on America’s Most Wanted? She slid down into her seat, willing herself to be invisible, or at least small enough to slip away unnoticed.

“Candace,” he mused, “can I call you Candy?”

“Well …” She was about to say no. She hated that name.

“Great. So, Candy, what makes you want to work for The Zone?”

She didn’t want to work for The Zone, she just wanted to enjoy her summer like everybody else. Her father had put his foot down, though. According to him it was time she learned the value of work and earning her own way. She had chosen to work for The Zone because she had absolutely no skills, and working for a theme park seemed more interesting than flipping burgers.

She sighed and squirmed, refusing to meet the recruiter’s eyes. “I’ve always dreamed of working for The Zone. I want to be part of the excitement and help -people enjoy themselves more.” It was her rehearsed answer, and she held her breath, hoping he would buy it.

He stared at her for a long minute before nodding. Picking up a bright blue folder on his desk, he flipped it open and cleared his throat. “You realize, of course, that if you wanted a summer job, you should have started applying months ago, right?” he asked, staring at her over the tops of his glasses.

She slunk farther down into her chair. She licked her lips when she realized he expected an answer. “No,” she said.

“No? No? Well, you are wrong. In order to get a good summer job, you should start applying at least in March.”

March! All I could think of in March was holding out until spring break without going postal. Her eyes were now nearly level with the edge of his desk. “I just thought, you know, The Zone needs a lot of employees.”

“You are correct, but most of our summer positions have already been filled.”

He stopped and stared at her. She wasn’t sure what he expected her to say, but she was beginning to have the sinking feeling that her summer would consist of asking -people if they wanted fries with their meal.

Just as she was about to get up to leave, sure that the interview had come to an end, he spoke. “We do, however, have two openings.”

She sat up. “What are they?”

“The first is janitorial.”

“You mean those -people who go around sweeping up after everyone?” That might not be so bad. At least I could keep moving, and nobody ever pays attention to them.

He raised an eyebrow. “Some of our janitorial employees do that, but not this position. This one is cleaning up the women’s restrooms.”

Candace’s stomach turned. In her mind she pictured the high-school bathroom by fourth period, and that was only with a few hundred users, not thousands. There was no way she was going there.

“Um, and the other one is …?” she managed to ask as diplomatically as she could.

“Cotton candy operator.”

“I’ll take it!” she exclaimed, more loudly than she had meant to.

“Good!” Lloyd stood up and opened a drawer in one of his many filing cabinets. He pulled out a stack of papers two inches thick and slammed them down on his desk right in front of her. The desk continued to shake for a moment as though there had just been an earthquake. “Fill those out.”

“Now?” she asked, her mind boggling over the enormity of the task. She moved slightly so that she was eye level with the stack, and she could feel her hand begin to cramp up in premature protest.

“Yes, now. You can, however, use the table in the courtyard if you’d be more comfortable.”

The word duh came to mind, but she bit her tongue and kept it to herself.

“Yes, sir, thank you. I’ll do that,” she said instead, scrambling to her feet and grabbing the stack of papers. She made her way out of the room as fast as she could, taking a deep breath once in the hallway.

The hallways around this place are roomier than the offices, she thought to herself as she immediately began to feel less claustrophobic. She turned around, not sure which way the courtyard would be. She hadn’t seen one on her way in, so it must be in the other direction.

She came to a T in the hall and craned her neck to the right. All she could see that way were more offices, so she turned to the left …

… and ran straight into a six-foot wall.

“Umph,” the wall gasped as Candace’s papers went flying in all directions.

“I am so sorry,” Candace said, realizing that the wall she had run into was actually a guy, a big guy, a guy with muscles she could see through his shirt. She looked up and forgot what she was going to say next. She was staring at the Lone Ranger. He stood there, larger than life in pale blue, complete with boots and gun belt. Black wavy hair shone from underneath a white hat pushed far back on his head. A black mask covered part of his face.

All this was not what stopped her in her tracks, though. What took her breath away and caused her to stare like an idiot were his eyes. He had amazing eyes that were bright blue and crackled like lightning. He stared right through her, and her heart began to hammer.

“I—I—”

He smiled at her, and she felt dizzy. “Are you lost, my lady?”

She nodded, still unable to look away from those piercing eyes.

“Here, let me help you,” he said, bending down.

For one dizzying moment his face came close to hers, and she thought he was going to kiss her just like in some movie. Instead of kissing her, though, he knelt down and began picking up her papers.

Idiot, she said to herself, feeling her cheeks burning. Her knees began to buckle, and she covered it by quickly dropping down to her knees and scooping up some of the papers that had managed to spread themselves across the width of the hall.

“I’m such a klutz,” she said.

“Not at all. How could you expect to run into something when you’re not looking where you’re going?”

She glanced up quickly, stunned at the rebuke. Then she noticed that he was grinning from ear to ear. They both burst out laughing.

“That should do it,” he said finally, handing her the last sheet of paper. His fingers brushed hers, and she felt her stomach do a flip-flop.

“Thanks.”

“So, where are you headed?”

“Um, um,” she stammered for a moment, her mind going completely blank.

“I take it you’re filling these out?” he said, tapping the stack of papers.

She nodded, relieved as she remembered, “Something was said about a courtyard that had a table.”

“I’ll show you where it is.”

She fell into step with him, and he led her down the corridor. They made three quick turns in a row and arrived at a door leading out to what truly was a small courtyard.

“There you go,” he said, holding the door open for her. She walked outside into the sun and plunked her papers down onto a table.

“Thanks.”

“I live to serve.”

She couldn’t think of something witty to say, so she just stared at him.

He winked at her. “I’ll see you around.”

Then he turned and left. She sank down into the chair, her knees feeling weak. “Who was that masked man?”

?

Four hours and three phone calls to her father later, Candace finished filling out the application. She stacked up the tax forms, identity forms, nondisclosure forms, noncompetition agreements, and receipt-of-employee-handbook forms. And with a snort, she put the background check and financial disclosure form on top of the whole stack. She was seventeen, and she had no finances to disclose. She’d had a momentary panic about the background check until she realized they were looking for things like a criminal background or drug use and wouldn’t be interested in the fact that she’d had detention twice in seventh grade.

She flipped back through the employee handbook. It was over a hundred pages long. After reading through it, she realized that The Zone had a policy and procedure for absolutely everything. They even had three different emergency-evacuation plans, depending on whether it was fire, weapons problems, or natural disasters. Clearly the -people who worked on the handbook were paranoid, and now, after reading it, so was she.

She dragged herself to her feet, her stomach angrily reminding her that lunch had been hours before and she had missed it. She miraculously made her way back through the maze of corridors to Mr. Peterson’s office. He was speaking on the phone, so she stood in the doorway until he looked up and saw her.

He hung up the phone. “Come in, Candy. I take it you’re done?”

She nodded, handing him the stack.

“Excellent. Well, I’ll take a look at all these. I’m sure they’re in order. Let me just get copies of your driver’s license and social security card.”

She fished them out of her purse and handed them to him. He left the office for a minute and then returned with photocopies. He handed her cards back to her.

“Okay, you’ll start orientation tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes, is there a problem with that?” he asked sharply.

“I just thought I’d have a -couple of days before—”

“Tomorrow’s our last orientation class for the summer. It’s either tomorrow or never.”

Never wasn’t an option, no matter how much she wanted it to be. A vision of a certain masked man flitted briefly through her mind. Then again, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow is fine for me,” she said.

“Report to the lobby at seven forty a.m.”

There went any hope she had of sleeping in, probably forever. She sighed and nodded.

?

“What do you mean you have to be home early tonight?” Candace’s best friend, Tamara Wilcox, huffed over the phone. “I thought we were hanging out?”

“We can still hang. I just need to get some sleep. I have to start work early in the morning,” Candace explained. She flipped onto her back and braced her legs against the wall next to her bed.

There was only silence on the other end of the phone.

“Tam, you still there?”

“Uh-huh. Meet me at Starbucks.”

“Can’t. I’m getting a job to earn summer spending money, and Dad won’t give me an advance.”

“I’m buying. Just get your butt over here.”

?

Ten minutes later Candace was sitting down at a corner table where Tamara was already waiting for her. Without a word, Tamara slid a grande hot chocolate with a shot of raspberry across the table to her.

Candace blew through the tiny opening in the lid like she always did. Tonight, though, the whistling sound it produced didn’t make her smile. She was too busy trying to avoid looking at the daggers in Tamara’s eyes.

“So, you’re ditching me for the summer?”

“No, just five days a week. I should be free evenings and weekends.”

“Did they guarantee that?”

“Well, no, but they said it would likely be that. They couldn’t expect me to work during church, you know?”

Tamara crossed her arms over her chest, a sure sign she wasn’t buying it. “And what about youth group? Even if they don’t make you work Sunday morning they’re going to make you work Friday nights.”

“I should be free evenings,” Candace said, slinking down into her seat and hating that she was repeating herself. Somehow, it sounded less plausible than it had earlier in the recruiter’s office.

“And if you’re not? It’s bad enough you’re going to be blowing off church and youth group, but what about me? I’m your best friend. What kind of summer am I going to have without you?”

“Come on, no matter what hours I get, it will only be thirty-five a week. We can still do all kinds of stuff. And I’ll have the money to pay for it,” Candace said with a sigh. It was amazing sometimes how Tamara could turn anyone’s pain into her own.

Tamara uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, tapping one perfectly manicured nail on the table. “You know, if money is the issue, I can take care of that.”

Candace stared at her. Tamara was rich. Her whole family was. Her monthly allowance was more than some -people made in a year. Candace knew she was serious, and it was a tempting offer.

“I can’t,” she said at last, tears of frustration filling her eyes. “My dad would kill me.”

Tamara sat back, a disappointed look on her face. “Oh, is he pulling that rite-of-passage, learn-the-value-of-work crap on you?”

Candace nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah, he’d freak if I backed out. And I don’t think you’re prepared to pay for my college tuition.”

Tamara laughed. “Would it get you to bail on this whole Zone thing?”

Candace scowled. “He’s my dad. What can I do?”

“Nothing,” Tamara said, shaking her head. “Parents are so much work.”