{"id":3232,"date":"2009-11-03T00:33:47","date_gmt":"2009-11-03T05:33:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=3232"},"modified":"2009-11-02T00:34:56","modified_gmt":"2009-11-02T05:34:56","slug":"tidings-of-great-boys-by-shelley-adina-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=3232","title":{"rendered":"Tidings of Great Boys by Shelley Adina"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span> <\/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…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n


<\/p>\n

Shelley Adina<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n


<\/p>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

All About Us #5: Tidings of Great Boys<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

FaithWords; 1 edition (September 8, 2009)<\/p>\n

***Special thanks to Miriam Parker of the Hachette Book Group for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n

CONTEST! For a chance to win one of two prizes: a Tiffany’s Bracelet OR an All About Us T-shirt<\/em><\/span>, go to <\/span>Camy Tang’s Blog <\/span><\/a>and leave a comment on her FIRST Wild Card Tour for Tidings of Great Boys<\/em>, and you will be placed into a drawing for a bracelet or T-shirt that look similar to the pictures below. <\/span><\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/div>\n
\"\"<\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>Award-winning author Shelley Adina wrote her first teen novel when she was 13. It was rejected by the literary publisher to whom she sent it, but he did say she knew how to tell a story. That was enough to keep her going through the rest of her adolescence, a career, a move to another country, a B.A. in Literature, an M.A. in Writing Popular Fiction, and countless manuscript pages. Shelley is a world traveler and pop culture junkie with an incurable addiction to designer handbags. She writes books about fun and faith–with a side of glamour. Between books, Shelley loves traveling, playing the piano and Celtic harp, watching movies, and making period costumes.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $9.99
\n Reading level: Young Adult
\n Paperback: 256 pages
\n Publisher: FaithWords; 1 edition (September 8, 2009)
\n Language: English
\n ISBN-10: 0446179639
\n ISBN-13: 978-0446179638<\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

SOME PEOPLE ARE born with the gift of friendship. Some achieve it. And then you have people like me, who have friendship thrust upon them.<\/p>\n


<\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

Believe me, there\u2019s no one happier about that than I am\u2014in fact, I probably wouldn\u2019t be alive right now without it\u2014but it wasn\u2019t always that way. My name is Lindsay Margaret Eithne MacPhail, and because my dad is a Scottish earl, that makes my mother a countess and me, a lady.<\/p>\n

I know. Stop laughing.<\/p>\n

To my friends I\u2019m simply Mac. If you call me Lady Lindsay, I\u2019ll think you\u2019re (1) being pretentious or (2) announcing me at a court ball, and since none of my friends are likely to do either, let\u2019s keep it Mac between us, all right?<\/p>\n

On the night it all began, I was sitting in the dark, deserted computer lab, waiting for the digital clock on the monitor to click over: 11:00.<\/p>\n

\u201cCarrie?\u201d I settled the headphones more comfortably and leaned toward the microphone pickup.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right?\u201d Her familiar voice came over Skype and I smiled, even though she couldn\u2019t see it. She sounded like sleepovers and mischief and long walks through the woods and heath. Like rain and mist and Marmite on toast. She sounded like home.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d I swallowed the lump in my throat. I\u2019d chosen to come to Spencer Academy for the fall term instead of going back to St. Cecelia\u2019s. I\u2019d hounded my mother and, when that didn\u2019t work, my dad, so I had no business being homesick. Besides, being all weepy just wasted precious minutes. Carrie had to leave for school, and I had to sneak back up to the third floor without the future Mrs. Milsom, our dorm mistress, catching me after lights-out.<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly two weeks to go until you\u2019re home,\u201d Carrie said. \u201cI\u2019m already planning all the things we\u2019re goin\u2019 tae do. Anna Grange has a new flat in Edinburgh and she says we can come crash anytime we like. Gordon and Terrell canna wait to see you\u2014they want to take us to a new club. And\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHang on.\u201d How to put this? \u201cI haven\u2019t actually decided what I\u2019m doing over the holidays. There\u2019s a lot going on here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence crackled in my headset. \u201cDon\u2019t talk rubbish. You always come home. Holidays are the only time I ever get tae see you\u2014not tae mention all your friends. What do you mean, a lot going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThings to do, people to see,\u201d I said, trying to soften the blow. \u201cMum wants me in London, of course, since she hasn\u2019t had me for nearly three months. And I have invitations to Los Angeles and New York.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom who?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA couple of the girls here.\u201d<\/p>\n

The quality of the silence changed. \u201cAnd these girls\u2014they wouldna be the ones splashed all over Hello! last month, would they? At some Hollywood premiere or other?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs it happens, yes. I told you all about it when that issue came out.\u201d<\/p>\n

She made a noise in her throat that could have been disgust or sheer disparagement of my taste. \u201cThat\u2019s fine, then. If you\u2019d rather spend your vay-cay-shun wi\u2019 your Hollywood friends, it\u2019s nowt to do wi\u2019 me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCarrie, I haven\u2019t said I\u2019d go. I just haven\u2019t made up my mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

As changeable as a sea wind, her temper veered. \u201cYou\u2019ve got tae come. We\u2019re all dying to see you. I saw your dad in the village and he invited all of us over as soon as you got home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid he?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. I didna think he\u2019d even remember who I was, but he stopped me in the door of the chip shop and told me I was tae come. He sounded so excited.\u201d<\/p>\n

This did not sound like my dad, who wasn\u2019t exactly a recluse, but wasn\u2019t in the habit of accosting random teenagers in chip shops, either, and inviting them up to the house. She was probably having me on. I had a lot of practice in peering behind Carrie\u2019s words for what she really wanted. In this case, it was simple. She was my friend, and friends wanted to be with each other.<\/p>\n

The problem was, I had more friends now than I used to. Besides the ones at Strathcairn and in London, there were the ones here at Spencer. And lately, Carly, Shani, Lissa, and Gillian were turning out to be solid\u2014moreso than any friends I\u2019d had before.<\/p>\n

Awkward.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll let you know as soon as I figure out what I\u2019m doing,\u201d I told Carrie. \u201cI\u2019ve got to go. The Iron Maiden stalks the halls.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carrie laughed. \u201cLove the pic you sent wi\u2019 yer camera phone. What a horror. Who would marry her?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe bio prof, apparently. The wedding\u2019s set for New Year\u2019s Eve to take advantage of some tax benefit or other.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow bleedin\u2019 romantic.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was another Christmas wedding in the works, but I hadn\u2019t heard much about it lately. Carly Aragon\u2019s mum was supposed to marry some lad she\u2019d met on a cruise ship, much to Carly\u2019s disgust. I could relate, a little. If my mother was going to marry a man who looked like a relic from an eighties pop band, I\u2019d be a little upset, too. So far Carly was refusing to be a bridesmaid, and the big day was sneaking up on her fast.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll call you over the weekend.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI might be busy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen I\u2019ll call Gordon and Terrell. I know they love me.\u201d<\/p>\n

She blew me a raspberry and signed off. Still smiling, I laid the headphones on the desk and got up.<\/p>\n

And froze as a thin, dark shape moved in the doorway. The lights flipped on.<\/p>\n

I blinked and squinted as Ms. Tobin stared me down. \u201cI thought I heard voices. Is someone here with you?\u201d I shook my head. \u201cYou do realize, Lady Lindsay, that lights-out is ten o\u2019clock? And it is now twenty after eleven?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take your word for it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing in here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCalling home.\u201d<\/p>\n

She scanned the rows of silent computers. Not a telephone to be seen. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t do that from the privacy of your own room?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s eleven twenty and my roommates are asleep,\u201d I pointed out helpfully. \u201cBut it\u2019s seven twenty in the morning in Scotland. I use Skype so there are no long distance charges.\u201d<\/p>\n

She rolled her eyes up, as if doing the math. \u201cCalling Scotland? Your family?\u201d<\/p>\n

If I didn\u2019t actually answer, I wouldn\u2019t be lying. Instead, I let the smile falter. \u201cI get homesick.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ms. Tobin pinned me with her gaze like a butterfly on a board. \u201cI sympathize, but you still broke a school rule. A demerit will be added to your record. Again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Oh, please. Who cared about demerits when I needed to talk to Carrie? \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Ms. Tobin.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome along. I\u2019ll escort you to your room.\u201d<\/p>\n

And she did, like a bad-tempered Dementor floating along beside me. Only compared to that dreadful brown tweed skirt and round-toed oxfords, the Dementors were turned out in haute couture. Did the woman actually have on knee-high stockings?<\/p>\n

\u201cGood night, Lady Lindsay.\u201d<\/p>\n

I shuddered and shut the door on her, locking it for good measure.<\/p>\n

\u201cMac?\u201d Carly\u2019s sleepy voice came from the direction of her bed, muffled by a quilt. \u201cWho\u2019s that with you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI called home and got caught,\u201d I whispered. \u201cMs. Tobin marched me up here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Carly groaned and subsided.<\/p>\n

I undressed and crawled into bed. The three of us had to make do in a room designed for two. I have to admit, it was kind of fun rooming with Carly and Shani Hanna. Since her debacle with the heir to the Lion Throne last month, Shani has lost a little of her attitude. She doesn\u2019t look at people with scornful eyes like she used to, and when she talks, it\u2019s to you and not at you.<\/p>\n

Or maybe it\u2019s just me.<\/p>\n

I returned to the problem at hand. With two weeks left to go before the holidays, what was I to do? Home or here? Old or new? Family or friends? And really, what was the difference?<\/p>\n

I blinked and stiffened on my goosedown pillow.<\/p>\n

That was it. There was no difference. My family and my friends all belonged together. With me. At home.<\/p>\n

\u201cCarly?\u201d I whispered. \u201cAre you awake?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuhhhm.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think everyone would like to come to Scotland with me for Christmas?\u201d<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

\u201cDEFINE EVERYONE.\u201d Gillian leaned across her dish of oatmeal and took a tangerine out of the bowl on the table.<\/p>\n

I swallowed a spoonful of yogurt before I answered. I hadn\u2019t put a single molecule of porridge near my mouth since I\u2019d arrived in the States. I\u2019d had sixteen years of it, thank you very much, and there was no one here to make me eat the stuff.<\/p>\n

Lissa dived into my hesitation. \u201cYou don\u2019t really mean that, do you? All of us? At Strathcairn?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do mean it. We have fourteen bedrooms, not counting the old nurseries and the staff floor. Those are closed off, anyway. The beds might be a little dusty, but if I let my dad know right away, he can get some of the ladies from the village to come and tidy things up. There\u2019s plenty of room and tons of things to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike what?\u201d Carly put away oatmeal at a scary rate. I shuddered.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike skating on the pond and cross-country skiing. And parties.\u201d I saw the Strathcairn of ten years ago, when Mummy had been the most spectacular hostess the old pile had seen in generations. \u201cLots of parties and balls and live bands and whatever we want.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t tell me,\u201d Shani said. \u201cYou\u2019re going to teach us Sir Roger de Coverley, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, that\u2019s for babies,\u201d I said scornfully. What did she know about country dances? \u201cI\u2019ll teach you Strip the Willow before we go so you don\u2019t make utter fools of yourselves.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever. Doesn\u2019t sound like my thing.\u201d She looked into her fruit cup and fished out the last blueberry.<\/p>\n

Something in her face told me what the real problem was. \u201cIf you\u2019re worried about the money, don\u2019t. We\u2019ll work it out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow are you gonna do that?\u201d Her dark eyes looked guarded. She may have been dumped by her parents for refusing to go through with an arranged marriage, but her pride wasn\u2019t dented one bit.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to touch your nest egg. My allowance ought to cover a plane ticket. First class, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmph.\u201d Shani crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.<\/p>\n

I knew she had a cool two million socked away in the San Francisco branch of the Formosa-Pacific Bank, and that one of Gillian\u2019s dozens of cousins was her personal investment advisor. But she treated that money like it was two hundred instead of two million, watching over it with sharp eyes that didn\u2019t let a single cent escape without accounting for itself.<\/p>\n

Lissa glanced at Carly, who was eating and not talking, like she hoped we wouldn\u2019t notice her. She\u2019s a master of the art of the personal fade. \u201cAnd mine can cover Carly\u2019s,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s throw mine in and split two fares three ways,\u201d Gillian said. \u201cEasy peasy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor you, maybe,\u201d Carly mumbled. \u201cBrett\u2019s already asked me to spend Christmas with his family. Consequently my dad didn\u2019t just blow a fuse. He totally blew out the power grid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is with your dad?\u201d I demanded. \u201cI\u2019ve never seen anyone so protective. I\u2019d die if I were smothered like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe isn\u2019t smothered,\u201d Shani said with a glance across the table at Carly. \u201cBetween my dad and hers, I\u2019d take hers any day. At least he cares.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs it guilt talking?\u201d Lissa wanted to know. \u201cThe whole \u2018I\u2019m out of town ninety percent of the time, so we have to spend every minute of the ten percent together\u2019 thing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess.\u201d Carly sipped her honey latte. \u201cSo if he had that kind of fit about me spending Christmas sixty miles away, guess what he\u2019d say about going to another continent?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood point.\u201d I refused to take no for an answer, though. \u201cBut what about you, personally?\u201d Never mind. I answered the obvious myself. \u201cI guess if you had the choice, you\u2019d pick Brett.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot necessarily.\u201d She smiled at me, that warm Carly smile that makes puppies and old people and prickly Scots love her. \u201cHis house is nice, but it\u2019s no castle.\u201d<\/p>\n

Lissa laughed. \u201cI bet it has central heating, though.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStrathcairn has central heating.\u201d I tried not to sound defensive. \u201cIn the new part, and the kitchen. And there are fires in every room.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not putting wood on a fire and getting smoke in all my clothes.\u201d Lissa held up a \u201cstop it right there\u201d hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot a wood fire, ye numpty, a gas fire.\u201d I looked at them all. \u201cIn the bedrooms, at least. There are real fireplaces downstairs, in the sitting room and library. Honestly, what else has she been telling you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust that it was cold,\u201d Gillian offered. \u201cForty degrees, I think she said. Inside.\u201d<\/p>\n

I pretended to glare at Lissa, maligning my house behind my back. \u201cIf you all came, the place would be at its best\u2014I promise. You\u2019ll love it. And if your parents give you static, tell them to come, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEwww.\u201d Gillian looked appalled, and Shani, who has stayed in New York with Gillian\u2019s family before, buried her snort of laughter in her tall glass of pomegranate juice.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait a second.\u201d Lissa looked as if she\u2019d just figured out a new way to ace a bio exam. She flipped out her phone and pressed a button. \u201cHey, Dad, it\u2019s me. Fine. No, nothing\u2019s wrong and no, I don\u2019t need a favor.\u201d She rolled her eyes at us. \u201cWhen is the UK premiere of The Middle Window? Yes. Wow, you\u2019re kidding. That\u2019s perfect. So you\u2019re going over.\u201d She mimed smacking her forehead. \u201cNever mind, dumb question. What about Mom? Oh.\u201d She was silent for several seconds, blinking her contacts into place as her eyes filled. She gulped, then cleared her throat. \u201cWell, I doubt it, but I\u2019ll try. Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I\u2019m at breakfast. Finals this week. Need lots of protein and antioxidants and stuff to make the brain retain, you know? Love you two times. \u2019Bye.\u201d<\/p>\n

All round us, the dining room rattled and silverware clashed on plates and people talked incessantly. But at our table, several pairs of eyes watched silently as Lissa tapped her phone off and put it in her glossy Kate Spade tote.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you okay?\u201d Gillian was the only one with the nerve to ask. But then, she and Lissa room together, so they probably share a lot we don\u2019t know about.<\/p>\n

Lissa smoothed one hand over her blond hair, making sure her Stacey Lapidus hairband with its little rhinestone love knot was still in place. \u201cRecovering,\u201d she said. \u201cStand by for reboot.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anyone else would have said, \u201cGive me a minute,\u201d but Lissa isn\u2019t like anyone else. None of these girls are. It\u2019s a bit weird that we\u2019ve all found each other here, frankly. Or maybe not weird. Maybe inevitable. There\u2019s the Christian thing, of course. I used to think it wasn\u2019t my cup of tea at all, having quite a horror of Bible-thumpers and mad-eyed conviction. But these girls aren\u2019t like that at all.<\/p>\n

I said they were solid, and what they believe is part of it. When I first met them, I used to try to catch them out. Get them to make a mistake, blow up, whatever. But I never could\u2014at least, not that they\u2019d let me see. No matter how badly I treated them\u2014and I can get pretty bad, as anyone will tell you\u2014they didn\u2019t dish it back. Oh, they said a few things. No one is that good, especially considering the provocation. But we slowly became friends, and I slowly got drawn into their circle.<\/p>\n

Which isn\u2019t a bad place to be, since they\u2019re what\u2019s considered the A-list round here. Oh, you have your Vanessas and your Danis and your DeLaynes, but they\u2019re more bark than bite. They orbit in a different universe\u2014as a matter of fact, they\u2019ve sort of gone off orbit since Vanessa started going round with the Prince of Yasir. What do you call it when planets lose their center of gravity and start drifting off into space? That clique is like that now.<\/p>\n

Lissa took a deep breath and I focused on her. Recovery, evidently, was complete.<\/p>\n

\u201cThing one: Dad says that the UK premiere is on December 19. Term ends on the eighteenth. Thing two: he\u2019s going over for it, and the production team at Leavesden Studios, as well as the people from Scotland, are all invited. Thing three: both your mom and your dad are invited, too, Mac.\u201d I blinked in surprise. Dad hadn\u2019t said a word about it, and I\u2019d gotten an e-mail from him that morning. \u201cAnd thing four: my mother says she\u2019s not going. Dad wants me to talk her into it. What do you think my chances are?\u201d<\/p>\n

The hope in her eyes was almost painful. I knew all about hope. Been there, done that, threw away the T-shirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess that means at least you\u2019re coming, then,\u201d I said briskly. \u201cBecause of course you\u2019ll talk your mother round. And once you do, your parents are coming to Strathcairn afterward for Christmas. I insist.\u201d<\/p>\n

Because if Lissa could talk her mother into coming, then I could talk mine into it as well. For the first time since the divorce.<\/p>\n

This was going to be the best, most unforgettable Christmas ever. I\u2019d make certain of it.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/strong><\/p>\n

See my earlier review dated September 14 at this link<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,39,35],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3232","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-chick-lit","category-teen"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3232"}],"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=3232"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3232\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3236,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3232\/revisions\/3236"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3232"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3232"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3232"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}