{"id":2580,"date":"2009-09-11T01:00:20","date_gmt":"2009-09-11T06:00:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=2580"},"modified":"2009-09-10T19:57:35","modified_gmt":"2009-09-11T00:57:35","slug":"forever-richard-by-sue-dent","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=2580","title":{"rendered":"Forever Richard by Sue Dent"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"http:\/\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/SAad94Trj7I\/AAAAAAAAArA\/Yn05_E4V0fY\/s1600-h\/wild+card.jpg\"><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/firstwildcardtours.blogspot.com\/\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190009307003588530\" style=\"FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center\" src=\"http:\/\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/SAad94Trj7I\/AAAAAAAAArA\/Yn05_E4V0fY\/s200\/wild+card.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\" width=\"87\" height=\"123\" \/><\/a>It is time for a <span style=\"color:#990000;\"><strong><a href=\"http:\/\/firstwildcardtours.blogspot.com\/\">FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span><strong> <\/strong> 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&#8230;or for somewhere in between!  <span style=\"color:#990000;\"><strong>Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #cc0000;\"><em>You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<div><strong>Today&#8217;s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n<div style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.foreverrichard.com\/\"><strong>Sue Dent<\/strong><\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n<p align=\"center\"><strong><span style=\"font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;\"><span style=\"font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;\">and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p align=\"center\"><strong><span style=\"font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/ASIN\/1934284033\">Forever Richard<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p align=\"center\">The Writers Cafe Press (January 5, 2009)<\/p>\n<div><strong><span style=\"font-size:130%;color:#333399;\"><span style=\"color:#cc0000;\">ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/SqfRVmB1eII\/AAAAAAAADLo\/kqi2arLRVTM\/s1600-h\/dent.jpg\"><img decoding=\"async\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379498448833050754\" style=\"margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;\" src=\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/SqfRVmB1eII\/AAAAAAAADLo\/kqi2arLRVTM\/s200\/dent.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\" \/><\/a>Sue Dent hails from Mississippi. She graduated from Mississippi College in 1983. Since graduating she\u2019s sold computers, taught computer classes and has worked as a Technical Specialist IV for the Mississippi Department of Natural Resources.<\/p>\n<p><em>Forever Richard<\/em> is the second book in the Thirsting for Blood series. The prequel, <em>Never Ceese <\/em>was short-listed for a Bram Stoker Award and also voted the ACFW\u2019s book club choice for April 2007. Ms Dent is currently working on the third book in the series.<\/p>\n<p>Visit the author&#8217;s <a href=\"http:\/\/www.foreverrichard.com\/\">website<\/a>.<code><br \/>\n<\/code><code><br \/>\n<\/code><code><br \/>\n<\/code><\/p>\n<p><object classid=\"clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000\" width=\"500\" height=\"405\" codebase=\"http:\/\/download.macromedia.com\/pub\/shockwave\/cabs\/flash\/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0\"><param name=\"allowFullScreen\" value=\"true\" \/><param name=\"allowscriptaccess\" value=\"always\" \/><param name=\"src\" value=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/v\/agXOiDnY9eU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;border=1\" \/><param name=\"allowfullscreen\" value=\"true\" \/><embed type=\"application\/x-shockwave-flash\" width=\"500\" height=\"405\" src=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/v\/agXOiDnY9eU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;border=1\" allowscriptaccess=\"always\" allowfullscreen=\"true\"><\/embed><\/object><\/p>\n<p>Product Details:<\/p>\n<p>List Price: $14.95<br \/>\nPaperback: 350 pages<br \/>\nPublisher: The Writers Cafe Press (January 5, 2009)<br \/>\nLanguage: English<br \/>\nISBN-10: 1934284033<br \/>\nISBN-13: 978-1934284032<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color:#cc0000;\"><strong><span style=\"font-size:180%;\">AND NOW&#8230;THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong><br \/>\n<\/span><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/SqfRfNrXmhI\/AAAAAAAADLw\/zTlwpEe77zE\/s1600-h\/ForeverRichardcover.jpg\"><img decoding=\"async\" id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379498614095059474\" style=\"margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 200px;\" src=\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/_cESuxv-WNX8\/SqfRfNrXmhI\/AAAAAAAADLw\/zTlwpEe77zE\/s200\/ForeverRichardcover.jpg\" border=\"0\" alt=\"\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<div style=\"overflow: auto; height: 307px;\">The blazing mid-morning sun laid a haze over the southwestern landscape. Jos\u00e9  squinted at the distant horizon. \u201cMirada que est\u00e1 viniendo,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The day laborers loitered on corners hoping for work in the fields\u2014backbreaking work that paid little. Not the type of work they wanted but because most of them lived in the country illegally, they hadn\u2019t a lot of choice. The laborers worked long hours for little pay, which was attractive to employers\u2014so attractive they\u2019d risk breaking the law to hire them.<\/p>\n<p>The men had to watch for Border Patrol agents, so they scrutinized every gringo with a careful eye.<\/p>\n<p>Jos\u00e9\u2019s buddies squinted in the direction he\u2019d indicated. Raul pushed himself off the wall where they sat. \u201cI thought you saw him leave town\u2014for good.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYeah,\u201d Antonio seconded. \u201cQu\u00e9 tal? You can\u2019t see good or something? Maybe you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>For several weeks they\u2019d watched this stranger. No one knew when he\u2019d arrived or how long he planned on staying. They did know they wanted him gone. Both a gringo and an outsider\u2014the combination usually meant trouble.<\/p>\n<p>Jos\u00e9  watched the giant of a man approach. His long black duster billowed; his boots stirred up a dust storm around him. Jos\u00e9 boldly took a step forward. Raul watched and his lips curled into a smirk. Who did Jos\u00e9 think he was kidding anyway?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat you gonna do, hombrecito? The little man gonna take the big man on? He\u2019ll squash you like that little bug.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Jos\u00e9, desperate to earn respect among his peers, ignored the comment and squared his shoulders.<\/p>\n<p>*   *   *<\/p>\n<p>The small immigrant town of Rio Lobos could have easily been a mirage. Surrounded by dry, flat desert, like the desert he\u2019d spent the past two days walking through, he considered this possibility. Not until he stepped onto solid pavement did he believe otherwise.<\/p>\n<p>Heavy boots marked each step as he moved along. His long duster no longer billowed but flapped freely. He\u2019d tucked his left sleeve into a front coat pocket to prevent it from blowing about but with no left arm inside, the sleeve hung slack.<\/p>\n<p>In town, he stepped onto a sidewalk. Worn and beaten by the elements, sections of it were in dire need of repair\u2014the curbs, crumbling chunks of concrete. The entire town needed a facelift. Colorful pennants, strung about and flapping in the hot, arid breeze did little to disguise this.<\/p>\n<p>The most modern building was the bank. It sat on the adjacent corner and boasted a display below the bank name that alternated time and temperature: 9:47 AM and a scorching 97 degrees. Sweat beaded and rolled down into his thick beard. He scratched at it but stopped short of complaining. After all, the beard had offered his face some protection against the stark rays of the blazing desert sun. Yet, a curse for the one responsible for his present condition was never far from his lips.<\/p>\n<p>Blasted werewolf! If it hadn\u2019t been for the creature, he wouldn\u2019t have to worry about hair that grew twice as fast as normal. The bite wasn\u2019t the only thing to worry about when battling a werewolf.<\/p>\n<p>His stomach growled. Two days had passed since he\u2019d eaten anything. The five young migrant workers on the corner watched him arrive and stared belligerently as he drew near. One of the five took an aggressive step forward. The stranger slowed when he saw the young worker but walked on by. No one followed.<\/p>\n<p>La Tienda sat next to the laundromat. The tantalizing aroma of authentic Mexican cuisine lured him across the street.<\/p>\n<p>Those standing around the entrance scattered. Startled patrons inside moved as far away as possible as he stood between them and the door. Mothers gathered their small children. The young lady who worked the counter wore a nametag, Maria. She stifled a scream and backed up against the wall. Someone hissed the word gringo and he understood.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAye, gringo,\u201d he said, his Scottish accent strong. \u201cI get that. I\u2019m different. But I don\u2019t want any trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Trapped in bodies that wanted to run, a dozen pairs of eyes watched him go about his business. Careful not to make any sudden moves and frighten the patrons further, he walked slowly to the counter and gathered up foil-wrapped burritos from beneath a heat lamp. One by one, he placed them in a deep pocket of his coat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSee,\u201d he told them. \u201cI just want to eat . . . and now I\u2019m going to pay.\u201d He reached into his pocket for cash but had to guess at what he owed. Maria wasn\u2019t talking. He laid down a ten, grabbed a styrofoam cup and filled it with coffee, then headed to a group of tables and chairs near the back of the store and sat. A mass exodus followed as anxious patrons darted out. Maria disappeared into the back.<\/p>\n<p>A ceiling fan warbled overhead and kept the hot air circulating. He set his coffee down and took the burritos from his pocket. He devoured the first one in no time. After a few more bites of another, he could finally think about more than his next meal\u2014like the events of the previous evening.<\/p>\n<p>Tobias had eluded him for years, but he hadn\u2019t given up looking. The werewolf had information and he was desperate to hear it. After nearly a century of traipsing across continents\u2014Europe, Asia and now North America\u2014he\u2019d finally found him.<\/p>\n<p>Tobias knelt and drank from a stream, his shirt beside him. The moon\u2019s glow heightened the appearance of well-defined muscle. Tobias could easily overtake him. He had to move with care.<\/p>\n<p>He took a cautious step closer, pushed the fabric of his duster back giving him easy access to the pistol-grip sawed-off shotgun holstered on his thigh.<\/p>\n<p>Tobias tensed; he sniffed the air\u2014his cupped hands froze in mid-drink. His head turned a sliver to stare at the abstract reflection in the stream. The stranger drew his weapon and in one fluid motion Tobias stood and turned. Eyes black and narrowed, his nose wrinkled at the odor of silver.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAye, did ye think I\u2019d come unprepared?\u201d When Tobias didn\u2019t answer he asked, \u201cDo ye speak English, lad?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tobias tilted his head, his thick brows furrowed in confusion. Maybe his accent confused, so he worked to tame it before speaking again. This time Tobias nodded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThen tell me why ye have run from me all these years.\u201d He kept the shotgun level. \u201cAll I ever wanted was to ask some questions.\u201d Why had Tobias let me sneak up on him tonight? Maybe it\u2019s a trap? He pressed the gun barrel against the chest of the werewolf. \u201cYe don\u2019t have friends around waiting to pick me off, do ye? If so, then ye should know\u2014I\u2019ll kill ye first.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The breath of the werewolf turned to vapor in the cooler night air. \u201cTobias alone.\u201d Stilted werewolf English, but still English. \u201cTobias wait for you. Tobias need\u2014help. Help Tobias.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Stunned eyes stared back. \u201cHelp Tobias? Away with ye! Why should I help when ye have been running from me for so long?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tobias glanced over his shoulder and found the moon where it hung, crescent in shape. \u201cTobias forget.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTobias forget?\u201d He followed Tobias\u2019s gaze then nodded. \u201cAhh, Tobias forget\u2014forgotten how to become the wolf. Ye have gone too long without transforming.\u201d They never saw the danger until it was too late. \u201cYet ye remember ye need the moon, don\u2019t ye . . . to draw the blood up, to get things going.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tobias turned back to face him. \u201cYou help Tobias remember more.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>As a subtle reminder, he shoved the gun barrel against Tobias\u2019 chest. \u201cTell me what I want to know. Besides, what makes ye think I can help?\u201d He could help, of course. But he didn\u2019t give this information away freely. He didn\u2019t need every werewolf who\u2019d forgotten tracking him down.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou help Gideon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His expression fell. \u201cGreat. Gideon shared.\u201d Even after he promised that he wouldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHelp Tobias like you help Gideon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>His eyes narrowed. \u201cAye, but first, ye pay my price. Tell me. You know the werewolf Joachim. Ye ran with his pack. What became of him? Where is he now?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJoachim? Joachim is no more.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The words hit him hard. All these years of waiting, hoping\u2014it couldn\u2019t be true. \u201cYe lie!\u201d he growled. He had to be. He moved in closer to Tobias and forced the end of the gun under his chin. \u201cYe\u2019ll tell me the truth or I\u2019ll blow your head clean off!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTobias show you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll right.\u201d He brought the gun back down to chest level and allowed Tobias to put an open palm to his forehead.<\/p>\n<p>The first image: two wolves thrashing it out, teeth bared and bloodied, eyes blazing with intent. It ended when one of the wolves went down and she rushed forward. He gasped and Tobias removed his hand.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe killed Joachim,\u201d Tobias spat out. \u201cShe the reason he is no more.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYe will not speak of her like that. Ye won\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJoachim is no more because of her! He fight Zade for her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere is she now? Ye have to know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tobias reached into a pocket, took out a trinket on a thin chain and held it up.<\/p>\n<p>A lump formed in his throat; moisture played in the corner of each eye. \u201cWhere\u2019d ye get that, lad? Where in the world did ye get that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTobias take it from Joachim.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He batted back the moisture to regain some composure. \u201cDoesn\u2019t prove anything. Ye still haven\u2019t told me where she is or if she is.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHold tight. If she is, you know. If she isn\u2019t, you know too.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He considered this. \u201cAye, but I\u2019ll need my hand for that and I canna say I trust ye enough to holster my weapon. But\u2014\u201d he said, \u201cif ye hold the locket\u2014maybe that will work.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tobias placed his left palm back to the stranger\u2019s forehead and held the trinket tight in his other hand.<\/p>\n<p>Images flashed. A castle, a feeling. \u201cAye, I see her. She\u2019s alive.\u201d He furrowed his brow. \u201c. . . sort of.\u201d Tobias took his hand away. \u201cNow put that necklace in my breast pocket.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou help Tobias?\u201d the werewolf replied.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAye, of course.\u201d After all, that was the deal. He couldn\u2019t use the information himself. He wasn\u2019t cursed. But, having the information and the ability to share it\u2014on occasion there had been a definite advantage to that.<\/p>\n<p>He\u2019d have to holster the shotgun to free up his hand to initiate the action. \u201cThis is going to be bit tricky,\u201d he admitted, not certain he wanted to risk putting his weapon away and give up the advantage. But Tobias seemed ready to cooperate. He put his apprehension aside and slid the gun back into its holster.<\/p>\n<p>With his hand on Tobias\u2019 forehead, the flow of information could begin. Several attempts to get things going ended in failure. What was wrong?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYe block me. I canna help if ye block me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>With no more coercion than that, Tobias let his mental guard down.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAye, that\u2019s better.\u201d He\u2019d helped several other werewolves remember the way. Some took the information quickly. Some didn\u2019t. Often he could help speed things up by focusing. He closed his eyes but they shot back open when he felt sharp claws dig into his wrist. Tobias had already begun the transformation.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAahh!\u201d He fought the instinct to pull away. Tobias could take his only arm if he wasn\u2019t careful. The pressure increased. \u201cFor the love of God,\u201d he exclaimed.<\/p>\n<p>Tobias stiffened and his hand jerked before he fell backwards onto the ground. The stranger ratcheted his shotgun from his holster. \u201cAye. That\u2019d be a word ye canna tolerate.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>On the ground, Tobias continued the rapid transformation\u2014the human form faded further until the new looked at home on all fours. Soon, it sprinted off into the woods.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood riddance,\u201d he yelled out after him, \u201cyou ungrateful beast.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>*   *   *<\/p>\n<p>The migrant workers still loitered. The same young man who\u2019d shown aggression the first time moved directly in his path.<\/p>\n<p>When he angled to go around, the guy matched him step for step. Dark intimidating eyes met his. \u201cI don\u2019t want any trouble,\u201d he said. \u201cI just want to get by.\u201d He searched the young man\u2019s face for any sign of compromise.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou gotta pay to get by, gringo.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>That word again. \u201cI can\u2019t give ye what I don\u2019t have.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>A quick look over his shoulder to the others and the young man tensed his forearms. \u201cWell, you better come up with something or you\u2019ll have to deal with us, right, muchachos?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Arms crossed, they nodded.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAll right,\u201d he said. \u201cI do have one thing.\u201d He reached into a pocket and drew out his hand, closed. Slowly, he opened it to reveal\u2014nothing. In another instant, his palm covered the young man\u2019s forehead and the ringleader sank to the ground, unconscious.<\/p>\n<p>The others backed away. \u201c\u00a1\u00c9l lo mat\u00f3!\u201d he heard one say before they all broke and ran.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNay,\u201d he yelled after them. \u201cHe\u2019s not hurt. It\u2019s not what ye think.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It was pointless to explain further. They\u2019d disappeared around the corner. He sighed deep and pulled the young man along by an arm. He left him to rest under the shade of an awning.<\/p>\n<p>*   *   *<\/p>\n<p>On the outskirts of town sat the Alamo Plaza Apartments, remnants of a not-so-successful motel chain that dared defy the odds. No traveler would stop here now, only locals. You could pay by the week or ten dollars an hour, maximum two. His third prepaid week at the motel. He headed straight back to his unit.<\/p>\n<p>When the stranger saw another tenant leafing through mail, he quickened his pace. He was expecting something. Perhaps it had arrived. The mail had come, but no package waited. A notice stuck to his door, the \u201cAttempted Delivery\u201d box marked. Tomorrow the post office would try again. He pushed past disappointment and went inside. Calling the post office did little good. The mail truck with his package was still out making deliveries and wouldn\u2019t return until after the post office closed.<\/p>\n<p>He removed his duster and let it fall across a chair near the door. He placed his shotgun on a table next to the unmade bed and lay down. Two days of walking through the desert had taken its toll. He needed to rest.<\/p>\n<p>Sleep came easily enough. He recalled waking up once to find the room dark. The sun had set. The next time he awoke, it was morning, 9:45 according to the digital clock on the small bedside table. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. He felt rested but antsy. How would he kill time until his package came? A long shower helped, as did shaving his thick beard. But he still had at least an hour.<\/p>\n<p>He settled onto the end of his bed, television remote in hand, and began channel surfing. Jeopardy. He stopped to watch. The category: Famous Wars.<\/p>\n<p>The unyielding presence of this single Highland regiment caused the Russians to abandon their intention of taking Balaclava.<\/p>\n<p>The contestants jumped all around the correct response. \u201cWhat is the Charge of the Light Brigade?\u201d one said. \u201cWho fought the Crimean War?\u201d another chimed in. The third contestant merely shrugged.<\/p>\n<p>His deep-set eyes misted over in remembrance. \u201cAye, the thin red line\u2014what was the thin red line.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The thunder of hooves, the smell of death, he remembered it all. To die like they did. That would be an honor. Yet dying wasn\u2019t an option for him. Neither was aging in a timely manner. It had something to do with the battle he had with that werewolf. He did age, though much more slowly\u2014about a year for every fifty he\u2019d lived, but death never came. He\u2019d been run clean through during the battle at Balaclava, an injury that left more than a few men dead where they fell. Not something he understood\u2014in fact, quite frustrating. He switched the television off to avoid further memories.<\/p>\n<p>A solid thump against his door and then a knock. \u201cAye. I\u2019m here,\u201d he said jumping to his feet. A short sprint to the door and\u2014no one there. He looked down to see a package at his feet.<\/p>\n<p>He checked the box and brought it inside. The postage showed it had come all the way from New Delhi, India. He carefully opened it. The seller had done such a fine job of packing that it took him more than a minute to reveal the knife inside.<\/p>\n<p>Its pitted blade and wooden handle reinforced with bone plates attested its authenticity. He ran his fingers over the traces of Aramaic and Hebrew inscription. \u201cAye,\u201d came his breathless whisper. This had to be it, the knife of the Aqedah, the very one used by Abraham on Mount Moriah. The one he\u2019d been searching for. He\u2019d combed sacred parchments for any mention of the knife past Abraham, looked around at Djebel Thebeyr, where a granite block, purportedly split in two by the touch of this knife, drew tourists. Still the knife had eluded him . . . until now.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFinally.\u201d He stared at what he held in reverent awe.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFinally I can end this madness.\u201d<\/p><\/div>\n<p><strong>MY REVIEW:<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Several months ago I had the opportunity to review an entirely different kind of Christian novel, <a href=\"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=208\">Never Ceese<\/a> by Sue Dent. The primary characters were Ceese, a werewolf and her brother Richard, a vampire, who had been raised by a Christian mother and father. Determined not to curse another human, both Ceese and Richard satisfied their thirst for blood by hunting animals only. They were each desperate to be free of the curse themselves and much of the book involved their search for freedom.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/ASIN\/1934284033\">Forever Richard<\/a> finds the pair in New York City, free of the curse,\u00a0 and ready to return to Richard&#8217;s castle in England. Due to extenuating circumstances, three others accompany them. Once at home, surprises, danger, and suspense are the order of the day as dark forces from the past target them and others from their past appear to align with them.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/ASIN\/1934284033\">Forever Richard<\/a> is a fast-moving tale filled with vampire and werewolf lore and plenty of action. I personally would have liked to have seen more spiritual content in a book labeled as Christian fiction. I felt that there were opportunities missed to acknowledge the power of God rather than the powers of darkness. However it is a story that has no sexual content or gratuitous violence and it does not make the life of a vampire or werewolf glamorous as in some popular literature.<\/p>\n<p>So, I will leave it to the reader to decide if <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/ASIN\/1934284033\">Forever Richard<\/a> is something they would like to read. If one is a fan of this genre, then <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/ASIN\/1934284033\">Forever Richard<\/a> is most likely a safe bet.<a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/exec\/obidos\/ASIN\/1934284033\"><br \/>\n<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>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 [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,32,42],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2580","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-fantasy","category-speculative"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2580"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2580"}],"version-history":[{"count":14,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2580\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2590,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2580\/revisions\/2590"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2580"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2580"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2580"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}