{"id":4371,"date":"2010-03-22T13:38:47","date_gmt":"2010-03-22T18:38:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=4371"},"modified":"2010-03-22T13:38:47","modified_gmt":"2010-03-22T18:38:47","slug":"deliver-us-from-evil-by-robin-caroll","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=4371","title":{"rendered":"Deliver Us From Evil by Robin Caroll"},"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

Robin Caroll<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

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

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Deliver Us From Evil<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

B&H Academic (February 1, 2010)<\/p>\n

***Special thanks to Julie Gwinn of B&H Publishing Group for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n

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

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

Robin Caroll has authored eight previous books including Bayou Justice and Melody of Murder. She gives back to the writing community as conference director for the American Christian Fiction Writers organization. A proud southerner through and through, Robin lives with her husband and three daughters in Little Rock, Arkansas.<\/p>\n

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

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

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $14.99
\n Paperback: 320 pages
\n Publisher: B&H Academic (February 1, 2010)
\n Language: English
\n ISBN-10: 0805449809
\n ISBN-13: 978-0805449808<\/p>\n

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

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

Tuesday, 3:30 p.m.
\n FBI Field Office
\n Knoxville, Tennessee<\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

Jonathan\u2019s throat closed as he stared at the building from the parking lot. He gripped the package tight in his arthritic hands. Could he do this? Turn over evidence that would implicate him?<\/p>\n

His heart raced and he froze. Not the best time for his atrial fibrillation to make an appearance. Despite being on the heart transplant list for eight months, it looked like his progressed heart disease would do him in. The most important reason he couldn\u2019t go to prison\u2014he\u2019d never get a heart and would die. While Carmen wanted him to confess his crimes, she wouldn\u2019t want him to die. The memory of saying good-bye to his beloved mere hours ago scorched his soul.<\/p>\n

Her eyes fluttered open. Those blue orbs, which had once sparkled even in the absence of light, now blinked flat and lifeless.<\/p>\n

He swallowed hard.<\/p>\n

\u201cJonathan,\u201d her voice croaked, \u201cit\u2019s time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears burned the backs of his eyes, and he rested his hand over her parchmentlike skin. \u201cNo, Carmen. Please, let me get the medicine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her eyelids drooped and she gasped. Air wheezed in her lungs. \u201cSweetheart, the fight\u2019s . . . gone from me.\u201d She let out a hiss, faint and eerie. \u201cThe cancer\u2019s . . . won.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jonathan laid his lips against her cheek, her skin cold and clammy, as if in preparation for the morgue. How could she continue to refuse the medicine? Even though she didn\u2019t approve of his means of acquisition, the drugs had kept her alive for five years. Five years he cherished every minute of. He\u2019d do anything to keep her alive and the pain at bay\u2014the intense pain that had become her constant companion these last two weeks. It killed him to witness her agony.<\/p>\n

She licked her bottom lip, but no moisture soaked into the cracked flesh. \u201cYou\u2019ve done . . . your best by me, Jonathan. I know . . . you meant . . . no harm to . . . anyone.\u201d Her eyes lit as they once had. \u201cOh, how I\u2019ve enjoyed loving you.\u201d<\/p>\n

His insides turned to oatmeal. Stubborn woman\u2014she\u2019d allow herself to die, all because she discovered how he\u2019d gotten the money.<\/p>\n

\u201cPromise me . . . you\u2019ll . . . tell the . . . truth. Admit what . . . you\u2019ve done.\u201d Her breath rattled. \u201cWhat you\u2019ve . . . all done.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pulling himself from the wretched memory, Jonathan breathed through the heat tightening his chest. He\u2019d secure himself the best deal possible\u2014immunity\u2014or he wouldn\u2019t decipher the papers. And without him no one could make sense of the accounting system he\u2019d created more than five years ago. Officials hadn\u2019t a clue.<\/p>\n

With a deep breath he headed to the guardhouse in front of the fenced FBI building. His legs threatened to rebel, stiffening with every step. He forced himself to keep moving, one foot in front of the other.<\/p>\n

At the guardhouse, a man behind bulletproof glass looked up. \u201cMay I help you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to . . . see someone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout what, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have some information regarding a crime.\u201d He waved the file he held.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne moment, sir, and someone will be with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jonathan stared at the cloudy sky. He could still turn back, get away scot-free. His heartbeat sped. The world blurred. No, he couldn\u2019t lose consciousness now, nor could he go back on his promise. He owed it to Carmen. No matter what happened, he\u2019d honor Carmen\u2019s dying wish.<\/p>\n

\u201cSir?\u201d A young man in a suit stood beside the fenced entry, hand resting on the butt of his gun. \u201cMay I help you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jonathan lifted the file. \u201cI have some evidence regarding an ongoing crime ring.\u201d<\/p>\n

The agent motioned him toward a metal-detector arch. \u201cCome through this way, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jonathan\u2019s steps wavered. He dragged his feet toward the archway.<\/p>\n

A car door creaked. Jonathan glanced over his shoulder just as two men in full tactical gear stormed toward them. He had a split second to recognize one of the men\u2019s eyes, just before gunfire erupted.<\/p>\n

A vise gripped Jonathan\u2019s heart, and he slumped to the dirty tile floor, the squeezing of his heart demanding his paralysis.<\/p>\n

Too late. I\u2019m sorry, Carmen.<\/p>\n

Two Weeks Later\u2014Wednesday, 3:45 p.m.
\n Golden Gloves Boxing of Knoxville<\/p>\n

Ooof!<\/p>\n

Brannon Callahan\u2019s head jerked backward. She swiped her headgear with her glove.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou aren\u2019t concentrating on your form. You\u2019re just trying to whale on me.\u201d Steve Burroughs, her supervisor and sparring partner, bounced on the balls of his feet.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen why am I the one getting hit?\u201d She threw a right jab that missed his jaw.<\/p>\n

He brushed her off with his glove. \u201cDon\u2019t try to street fight me. Box.\u201d<\/p>\n

She clamped down on her mouthpiece and threw an uppercut with her left fist. It made contact, sending vibrations up her arm.<\/p>\n

He wobbled backward, then got his balance. \u201cNice shot.\u201d<\/p>\n

It felt good to hit something. Hard. Sparring with Steve was the best form of venting. The energy had to be spent somehow\u2014why not get a workout at the same time? She ducked a right cross, then followed through with a left-right combination. Both shots made full contact.<\/p>\n

Steve spit out his mouthpiece and leaned against the ropes. \u201cI think that\u2019s enough for today, girl. I\u2019m an old man, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

She couldn\u2019t fight the grin. Although only in his late forties, the chief ranger looked two decades older. With gray hair, hawk nose, and skin like tanned leather, Steve had already lived a lifetime.<\/p>\n

She removed her mouthpiece, gloves, and headgear before sitting on the canvas. \u201cOld? You\u2019re still kickin\u2019 me in the ring.\u201d<\/p>\n

He tossed her a towel and sat beside her. \u201cSo you wanna tell me what\u2019s got you all hot and bothered this afternoon?\u201d<\/p>\n

She shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, spit it out. I know something\u2019s gnawing at you, just like you were picking a fight with me in the ring. What\u2019s up?\u201d<\/p>\n

How could she explain? \u201cI\u2019m not exactly keen that the district feels there\u2019s a need for another pilot in the park.\u201d She tightened the scrunchie keeping her hair out of her face.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s a compliment\u2014having you on staff has been so successful they want to expand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut I have to train him. Did you notice his arrogance?\u201d She ripped at the tape bound around her knuckles. \u201cHe\u2019s nothing more than a young upstart with an ego bigger than the helicopter.\u201d While only thirty-six, she often felt older than Steve looked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re so good, you can come across a bit intimidating at first, girl.\u201d Steve grabbed the ropes and pulled to standing, then offered her a hand. \u201cGive him a chance.\u201d<\/p>\n

She let Steve tug her up. \u201cYeah, yeah, yeah. Even if he had maturity, I still have to train him. With all the rescues we\u2019ve been called out on of late . . . well, I really don\u2019t have the time.\u201d She exited the ring. \u201cLike those kids yesterday.\u201d She shook her head as she waited for Steve to join her on the gym floor. \u201cTheir stupidity almost cost them their lives.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey were young, Brannon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease. Any amateur with half a brain should know better than to try to climb Clingmans Dome in winter.\u201d Didn\u2019t people realize if something happened to them they\u2019d leave behind devastated family and friends? Loved ones who would mourn them forever? She fought against the familiar pain every time she participated in a search and rescue. All because people hadn\u2019t taken necessary precautions.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey didn\u2019t know any better.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt takes a special kind of stupid not to have researched your climb.\u201d Most SARs could be avoided if people planned a little more. It ripped her apart that so many parents, grandparents, siblings . . . fianc\u00e9es . . . survived to deal with such grief. She\u2019d tasted the bitterness of grief\u2014twice\u2014and the aftertaste still lingered.<\/p>\n

Steve paused outside the locker rooms and shifted his sparring gear to one hand. \u201cI agree, but most people don\u2019t see the dangers we do every day.\u201d He tapped her shoulder. \u201cHit the showers, champ. You stink.\u201d<\/p>\n

She laughed as she headed into the ladies\u2019 locker room. Maybe Steve was right and the new pilot just made a lousy first impression. Maybe he\u2019d be easy to train.<\/p>\n

Please, God, let it be so.<\/p>\n

Friday, 2:15 p.m.
\n US Marshals Office, Howard Baker Federal Courthouse
\n Knoxville, Tennessee<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want me to escort a heart?\u201d Roark struggled to keep his voice calm. He tapped the butt of his Beretta, welcoming it back to its rightful place on his hip.<\/p>\n

Senior US Marshal Gerald Demott glared. \u201cLook, I know you think this is a slight, but it\u2019s important. And for your first assignment back on the job . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIA cleared me of all wrongdoing. I\u2019m seeing the shrink and everything.\u201d He gritted his teeth and exhaled. \u201cI\u2019ve been released to return to active duty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is active. It\u2019s a field assignment, and it\u2019s important. Here\u2019s the case information.\u201d Demott passed him a folder, then glanced at his watch. \u201cYou\u2019d better hurry or you\u2019ll miss your flight.\u201d<\/p>\n

Roark grabbed the file and turned to go.<\/p>\n

\u201cHolland.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked back at his boss. \u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n

Demott held out Roark\u2019s badge. \u201cYou might want to take this with you, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Roark accepted the metal emblem, then clipped it to his belt before marching out of Demott\u2019s office. A heart. His job was to escort a human heart from North Carolina to Knoxville. Any rookie could handle that. But no, they still didn\u2019t trust him enough to handle a real assignment.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d done everything they asked\u2014took a medical leave of absence while Internal Affairs went over every painful minute
\n of his failed mission, saw the shrink they demanded he speak to every week since Mindy\u2019s death, answered their relentless questions. The shrink reiterated he\u2019d been forgiven for acting on his own.<\/p>\n

Maybe one day he\u2019d forgive himself. How many innocent lives would he have to save for his conscience to leave him be?<\/p>\n

Roark slipped into the car, then headed to the airport. But to be assigned a heart transport? Not only was it wrong, it was downright insulting. After almost fifteen years as a marshal, he\u2019d earned the benefit of the doubt from his supervisors. Especially Demott. His boss should know him better, know he\u2019d only disregard orders if it was a matter of life and death.<\/p>\n

But Mindy Pugsley died. They\u2019d all died.<\/p>\n

He pushed the nagging voice from his mind. Even Dr. Martin had advised him not to dwell on the past. On what had gone wrong. On disobeying a direct order.<\/p>\n

If only Mindy didn\u2019t haunt his dreams.<\/p>\n

Roark touched the angry scar that ran along his right cheekbone to his chin. A constant reminder that he\u2019d failed, that he\u2019d made a mistake that took someone\u2019s life. He\u2019d have to live with the pain for the rest of his life.<\/p>\n

He skidded the car into the airport\u2019s short-term parking lot. After securing the car and gathering the case folder, Roark grabbed his coat. Snowflakes pelted downward, swirling on the bursts of wind and settling on the concrete. The purple hues of the setting sun streaked across the mountain peaks beyond the runways, making the January snow grab the last hope of light.<\/p>\n

Yes, he\u2019d handle this mundane assignment, then tell Demott he wanted back on real active duty. Making a difference would be the best thing for him. Would make him feel whole again.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n


<\/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":[8,60,33],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4371","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-contemporary-fiction","category-suspense"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4371"}],"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=4371"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4371\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4375,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4371\/revisions\/4375"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4371"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4371"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4371"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}