{"id":6885,"date":"2011-02-08T01:20:34","date_gmt":"2011-02-08T06:20:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=6885"},"modified":"2011-02-08T00:26:21","modified_gmt":"2011-02-08T05:26:21","slug":"the-resurrection-by-mike-duran","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=6885","title":{"rendered":"The Resurrection by Mike Duran"},"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

Mike Duran<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

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

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The Resurrection<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Realms (February 1, 2011)<\/p>\n

***Special thanks to Anna Coelho Silva | Publicity Coordinator, Book Group | Strang Communications for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n

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

\"\"<\/a>Mike Duran was a finalist in Faith in Fiction’s inaugural short story contest and was chosen as one of ten authors to be published in Infuze Magazine\u2019s 2005 print anthology. He is author of the short story \u201cEn Route to Inferno,\u201d which appeared in Coach\u2019s Midnight Diner: Back from the Dead edition, and received the Editor\u2019s Choice award for his creative nonfiction essay titled \u201cThe Ark,\u201d published in the Summer 2.3 Issue of Relief Journal. In between blogs, he also writes a monthly column for Novel Journey and has served as editor on the Midnight Diner\u2019s editorial team. Duran is an ordained minister and lives with his wife of 29 years and four grown children in Southern California.<\/p>\n

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

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

In the graveyard overlooking the city of Stonetree, a petrified oak broods. It\u2019s a monstrous thing, not just because of its size, but because of who was murdered there. When Ruby Case limped into church that spring morning, she was not thinking about haunted trees. Mother of two young boys and wife to a backslidden believer, she faithfully prays for God\u2019s visitation upon the city. Yet when she inexplicably raises a boy from the dead, Ruby gets more than she bargained for. The resurrection creates uproar in the quiet coastal town, turning Ruby into both a celebrity and a scapegoat. When Reverend Ian Clark joins Ruby in a search for answers it leads to a collision with unspeakable darkness. Together, they quickly realize that Ruby woke more than a dead boy, and the secrets she unleashed now threaten to destroy them all. Can they overcome their own brokenness before they become victims of an insidious evil?<\/p>\n

\n<\/embed><\/object>\n<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $13.99
\n Paperback: 320 pages
\n Publisher: Realms (February 1, 2011)
\n Language: English
\n ISBN-10: 161638204X
\n ISBN-13: 978-1616382049<\/p>\n

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

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

\n

No sooner had he removed the chunk of jet-black obsidian from atop his sermon notes than Reverend Ian Clark realized he had a visitor.<\/p>\n

A ripple of electricity swept through the room, and the atmosphere tingled in its wake. It was a precursor to the manifestation, further evidence that his shrinking imagination\u2014his world without wonder\u2014had been invaded. The hair along Clark\u2019s forearms bristled, and his body grew tense. He knew what was coming. The stench of burning flesh fouled the air, forcing his throat into a knot. He stood rigid by the filing cabinet.<\/p>\n

Mr. Cellophane had arrived.<\/p>\n

Clark swallowed hard, his mind churning in indecision. Should he look at the spirit? Sometimes if he ignored it, the thing would go away, seeping back into the netherworld from where it came. But he didn\u2019t have time to waste. The girls would be here any minute, so he had to hurry. He gritted his teeth and turned toward the far end of the bookshelves, glowering.<\/p>\n

The specter rose in the corner\u2014its usual spot\u2014and watched him with sallow eyes. An opaque, gauzy sheath seemed to cloak the presence. Pale organs throbbed beneath its translucent skin. It appeared to be a young man, or the remnants of one, caught between worlds. A demon or ghost, he speculated, maybe a transient from a parallel plane. How it had come to haunt the church, Clark could not say. Nor did he really care.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d been forced to call it something, what with the frequency of its visits and his interminable need to bleach existence of its mystery. Beings aren\u2019t anonymous, he often reasoned. Amoebas, yes. As far as Clark could tell, Mr. Cellophane was more than an amoeba or an ectoplasmic phenomenon. His repeated attempts to evict the entity had proven futile\u2014no doubt an extension of his spiritual impotence. But Clark was history; soon the ministry would be nothing more than a bad dream. As far as he was concerned, the swirling bag of bones could rot over there.<\/p>\n

The apparition rose to the ceiling and hovered, undulating; its head tilted forward, a brooding presence in the corner of the church office. Elastic arms braided with sinews dangled at its side as it stared dispassionately at the minister.<\/p>\n

That look\u2014that pleading, defenseless gaze\u2014always unnerved Clark.<\/p>\n

He wiped the moisture from his eyes and, with a type of resolute indifference, snatched his notes from the cabinet. He scowled at the glassy wraith\u2014a childish, demoralized pout\u2014and turned away. As he went to the coat rack and removed his black leather jacket, he sensed the sad, empty eyes following him. He flung the jacket over his shoulder and marched toward the exit.<\/p>\n

\u201cLeave me alone,\u201d he muttered.<\/p>\n

He marched out of his office and slammed the door. Clark stormed past Vinyette\u2019s desk, dragging cords of the fetid vapors with him. Opening the front door, he peered into a dense spring fog. Intermittent droplets pattered the welcome mat, and something rustled in the camphor branches. Other than that, the parking lot was silent.<\/p>\n

A groan of relief left him. At least he didn\u2019t have to deal with Ruby and her fanatical entourage. Clark locked the door, rolled his notes into a tight baton, and plunged into the misty veil.<\/p>\n

A chill clung to the church office, as usual. Ruby Case shivered and yanked the sleeves of her sweat jacket over her wrists. Why was it always so cold in this building?<\/p>\n

Once again it was just the three of them, but Ruby didn\u2019t mind. She had given up trying to generate enthusiasm in Canyon Springs Community Church. In a way she preferred the anonymity of her little prayer group. Vinyette, on the other hand, used it as motivation. \u201cGoliath went down with one stone,\u201d she\u2019d say. \u201cSo\u2019s the three of us should do some damage.\u201d Vinyette was not one to aim low. For Ruby, it was more about doing right than getting payback. The fact that her two best friends shared the burden every Sunday morning before church made the commitment a lot easier.<\/p>\n

She slipped her eyes open and peeked at them. The girls sat as they always did\u2014Vinyette propped forward with her elbows on her thighs, rocking back and forth, the tattoo on her bicep in full display, and Marje at attention, hands folded on her lap like a prim schoolgirl, eyes squeezed into a fine line of lashes. Vinyette had the lead\u2014her natural position. Ruby smiled and shut her eyes again. She needed to concentrate and stop letting her mind wander.<\/p>\n

As she settled in, something brushed past and sent goose bumps skittering up her spine. She thrust her eyes open, fully expecting to see someone standing near. There was no one. Weird.<\/p>\n

Suddenly her insides somersaulted.<\/p>\n

Ruby leaned back, forcing a metallic groan from the folding chair. She picked at her jeans, waiting, hoping for the wave of nausea to go away. Instead a flush of warmth cascaded over her, and the room turned fuzzy.<\/p>\n

She unzipped her jacket and shook the collar of her shirt to let some air in. What was going on? Ruby blinked hard, trying to regain her mental equilibrium. She wasn\u2019t one to not be in control, and this, well, this wouldn\u2019t do. Her scalp tingled, as if invisible fingers caressed her hair. Maybe this was premature menopause. Like fifteen years premature. She frowned at the thought and kept flapping her collar.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s when an image sprung into her mind, sharp and inescapable, and snatched her breath away.<\/p>\n

Ruby slowly rose with one hand over her mouth, gawking at the vibrant impression that sketched itself in her mind\u2019s eye. She fumbled behind her for the chair, trying to steady herself, trying to comprehend what she was seeing, what she was feeling.<\/p>\n

\u201cSpeak to him, Lord,\u201d Vinyette prayed in her slight Southern drawl, unaware of Ruby teetering in the circle. \u201cWould you please get that man\u2019s attention?\u201d Marje nodded in agreement, her gold hoops swinging in confirmation.<\/p>\n

Ruby swayed, fighting to retain control of her senses. \u201cThe boys, Vin,\u201d she mumbled with a lightheaded lilt. \u201cCan you… \u201d<\/p>\n

Vinyette snapped her eyes open and stopped rocking. She shouted something and leaped forward, grappling for Ruby, but she wasn\u2019t fast enough. Ruby collapsed. Her head struck the chair and sent it clattering. Then her body thudded to the carpet and she gasped.<\/p>\n

Formless figures and indistinct sounds whirled around her, but the image remained. She lay spellbound, captivated by the bizarre vision.<\/p>\n

It was stark in its simplicity: an immense gray tree with barren, arthritic limbs tilted on a high hill. Behind it stretched an unending curtain of crimson sky.<\/p>\n

She commanded her body to move, but it could not. Even her heart seemed to freeze at the sight of the unfolding revelation.<\/p>\n

The tree towered over her, its skeletal limbs like a vast umbrella speckled with blackbirds. She lay mesmerized, not at all fearful, just captivated by the terrible dream. As she studied it, her thoughts went to a single leaf blooming on a craggy bough, bright and green like newly sprung grass. It seemed incongruent, so out of place on the pale dead branch, like a glorious banner unfurling in some bomb-blasted war zone.<\/p>\n

Ruby\u2019s bad leg lay crumpled underneath her. Someone wrestled it free and hovered overhead, shouting gibberish. Just behind her right ear a hot, sharp pinging began and tugged her back to reality. The vision dimmed, ebbed back into the recess of her psyche, the fuzz cleared, and she recognized her friend.<\/p>\n

\u201cBreathe, Ruby!\u201d Vinyette\u2019s forearm quivered, and the tattoo-green barbed wire shown under her receding shirtsleeve. If Reverend Clark were here, he\u2019d make her cover the darned thing. \u201cCall them. Hurry!\u201d Vinyette ordered someone. \u201cBreathe!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Ruby gasped, struggling to sit up. \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStay down.\u201d Vinyette placed her trembling hand flat against Ruby\u2019s tummy with the perfect amount of pressure.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t find the phone.\u201d Marje stumbled past them in her heels, sending a stapler tumbling off Vinyette\u2019s desk followed by fluttering papers.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen use your cell, Marje. C\u2019mon!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Ruby groaned, pushed aside Vinyette\u2019s hand and sat up, still loopy. \u201cI\u2019m all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, my butt!\u201d Vinyette glared at her. \u201cYou fainted. Nearly cracked your head open.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ruby touched the knot behind her ear and grimaced. The image of the tree finally faded. The coffee pot gurgled and the aroma hit her, as did a faint whiff of smoke. She wiped moisture from her eyes, drew a deep breath, and the church office came alive again. The lime green, low-back leather chair, excavated by Vinyette from some vintage thrift store, assured Ruby she was back on Earth.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere! Found it!\u201d Marje held the cordless up. \u201cShould I call?\u201d<\/p>\n

Vinyette stood and fidgeted with her turquoise rings, one after the other, biting her lip.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Marje, I\u2019ll be OK.\u201d Ruby patted the back of her head to ensure her ponytail was intact. Marje stood ogling, and Vinyette knelt next to Ruby. They watched as she sat and brushed carpet fibers off her jeans. Great! She was now officially something she hated most\u2014the center of attention.<\/p>\n

Ruby drew her legs up and struggled to her feet.<\/p>\n

\u201cCareful.\u201d Vinyette had her by the elbow.<\/p>\n

Marje rushed over, picked up the chair, and steadied it behind Ruby.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere,\u201d Vinyette said, \u201csit down. I\u2019ll get you some water.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stomped across the room in her cowboy boots, plucked a paper cup from the water dispenser, and filled it. As she did, Ruby squinted and scanned the office to make sure the fuzziness was gone.<\/p>\n

Vinyette returned and extended the cup, her long auburn hair gracing her lean frame. \u201cWhat happened? Good Lord, Ruby. You scared the wits outta us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ruby savored the cool water, which gave her time to consider her options. She\u2019d had intuitions before, subtle discernments about people or events. Her husband, Jack, called it her baloney detector. Sometimes harebrained words would pop into her mind, real off-the-wall like. Of course, she refused to consider herself psychic or profess some otherworldly calibration, but no amount of dismissal had stifled the gift.<\/p>\n

Still, she\u2019d never experienced anything like this.<\/p>\n

She finished the water, brought the cup down, and squinted. \u201cIs something burning? That smell. I can barely… \u201d<\/p>\n

Vinyette and Marje looked at each other and started sniffing the air like a couple of hound dogs. After a moment, Vinyette shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d Then she pointed to the cup. \u201cDo you want some more?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease.\u201d Ruby coveted the chance to stall.<\/p>\n

Spinning on the toe of her boot, Vinyette clomped to the cooler again and refilled the cup.<\/p>\n

Ruby surveyed her nails for damage as she pondered her next step. She\u2019d heard about things like this before. Trances and ecstatic visions, however, were the stuff of religious wackos. The fanatics up in Northfork were always touting premonitions and foreign tongues. Once they announced that God had turned some members\u2019 fillings into gold. The ensuing media curiosity was short-lived when the church refused to have the miracle verified. Of course, this only buttressed Jack\u2019s cynical sentiments. He wondered aloud about hillbillies actually having enough teeth to turn to gold and why God should bother with starvation in sub-Saharan Africa when some yokel needed precious metals gracing his diseased gums. That was Jack. As much as she believed in miracles and hated validating her husband\u2019s warped sense of humor, Ruby was hard-pressed to concede that kind of miracle. Besides, if Reverend Clark learned that a parishioner of his church had had some wild vision, he would have a field day dissecting it\u2014that is, after the board\u2019s inquisition. She clucked her tongue as she spotted a chip in the polish on her right index finger.<\/p>\n

Vinyette returned, and Ruby took the water and sipped it. Should she tell them? The thought made her stomach somersault again. Why not? Vinyette and Marje knew how to keep a secret. They had proven that. However, something this big always leaked out. The last thing Ruby Case wanted to do was start a scene. Besides, she needed a better handle on this before she went yakking.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou said something about the boys?\u201d Marje peered at Ruby. \u201cRight before you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right!\u201d Ruby nodded enthusiastically. \u201cThat\u2019s right. They\u2019ve been sick. Sean brought something home from preschool, and I must\u2019ve got it.\u201d She smiled sheepishly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but you passed out.\u201d Vinyette sounded skeptical. \u201cThat\u2019s it. I\u2019m getting my truck and driving you home. You can have Jack take you to the doctor.\u201d She snatched her keys from the desk, jangled them, and arched her eyebrows in her usual mother-knows-best expression.<\/p>\n

Ruby scrunched her lips. \u201cMmm, well… \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you dare.\u201d<\/p>\n

The haunting dreamscape lingered\u2014she could feel it. The invisible fingers were nearby, waiting to draw Ruby back.<\/p>\n

Gulping the last of the water, she crumpled the paper cup in her fist. \u201cI just…I probably caught something, Vin. I\u2019m feeling better now.\u201d She studied the chip in her soft ivory polish and said unconvincingly, \u201cReally.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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

Based on the cover art I expected a somewhat dark and mysterious tale with possible demonic encounters and maybe a nightmare or two as a result. What I didn’t expect was the in depth view into the very heart and soul of the townspeople, especially Clark and Ruby. Duran presents his characters with all their strengths and weaknesses, their doubts and beliefs, and their courage and fears for everyone to see.<\/p>\n

The Resurrection<\/a> is a story about a small town that has been overtaken by evil that has permeated the town and its churches with an apathy and acceptance that lets it thrive virtually unnoticed. Those who do notice are quickly removed or discredited. It is within this atmosphere that a young boy is mysteriously resurrected during his funeral and Ruby finds herself the center of attention as the one responsible. Clark, the minister of Ruby’s church, has found himself no longer believing what he teaches and is dabbling in things better left alone. When the two unlikely people are drawn into the battle to save the town, each must make critical choices that could even lead to death.<\/p>\n

The Resurrection<\/a> is a very well written book that held my interest until the end. While it has some pretty creepy and\/or violent scenes, I did not find any of them to be extremely graphic in nature. The subject will probably lead to some thought about what really goes on in the spiritual realm that surrounds us and should also assure us of God’s power over it all.<\/p>\n

I would recommend The Resurrection<\/a> to all who enjoy books of this genre but\u00a0 caution those who are prone to nightmares. I look forward to future novels by this author.<\/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":[8,60,97,33],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6885","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-contemporary-fiction","category-spiritural-warfare","category-suspense"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6885","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"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=6885"}],"version-history":[{"count":14,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6885\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6911,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6885\/revisions\/6911"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6885"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6885"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6885"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}