{"id":750,"date":"2008-10-30T21:05:32","date_gmt":"2008-10-31T02:05:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=750"},"modified":"2008-10-30T21:05:32","modified_gmt":"2008-10-31T02:05:32","slug":"faking-grace-by-tamera-leigh","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=750","title":{"rendered":"Faking Grace by Tamera Leigh"},"content":{"rendered":"

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

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

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

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

\n

MY REVIEW:
\nYou can read my September 22 review on Faking Grace here.<\/p>\n

Tamera Leigh<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

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

Faking Grace<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Multnomah Books (August 19, 2008)<\/p>\n

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

\"\"<\/a>Tamara Leigh is the best-selling author of eleven novels, including Perfecting Kate, Splitting Harriet, and Stealing Adda. She began writing romance novels to \u201cget the stories out her head.\u201d Over the course of one providential year, she gave birth to her first child, committed her life to Christ, gave up a career in speech pathology, and released her first novel. Tamara and her husband, David, live with their two sons in Tennessee.<\/p>\n

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

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $ 12.99<\/p>\n

Paperback: 400 pages<\/p>\n

Publisher: Multnomah Books (August 19, 2008)<\/p>\n

Language: English<\/p>\n

ISBN-10: 1590529294<\/p>\n

ISBN-13: 978-1590529294<\/p>\n

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

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

MAIZY GRACE STEWART\u2019S 5-STEP PROGRAM TO AUTHENTIC CHRISTIAN FAITH<\/p>\n

NAME:<\/p>\n

Grace [?]<\/p>\n

Nice, upstanding Christian name\u2014lucked out on that one. Must remember to answer to it.<\/p>\n

APPEARANCE:<\/p>\n

Monochrome hair [?]<\/p>\n

I flip down the visor mirror and peer at the \u201cMarilyn Monroe\u201d blond hair that waves off of my oval face. I so miss my stripes. But under my present circumstances, it\u2019s not as if I can afford to keep up the multiple-shade \u201cdo.\u201d Back to the list.<\/p>\n

Minimal make-up [?]<\/p>\n

Do I feel naked! Another peek in the mirror confirms the feeling. As I passed on foundation and blush, applying only a light powder to even out my tone, I look pale. The overall effect is that my hazel eyes practically jump off my face from beneath perfectly plucked eyebrows (the stragglers made me do it).<\/p>\n

Below-knee skirt [?]<\/p>\n

Button-up collar [?]<\/p>\n

One-inch heels [?]<\/p>\n

Almost wish I were naked.<\/p>\n

Cross necklace and earrings [?]<\/p>\n

WWJD bracelet [?]<\/p>\n

I scrunch up my nose. \u201cWWJD? Where would Jesus…? Why would Jesus…?\u201d I tap the bracelet. \u201cAh! What would Jesus do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLove Waits\u201d ring [?]<\/p>\n

Oh no, it doesn\u2019t. Still, it\u2019s a nice thought, especially considering the guy I left behind. But best not to go there.<\/p>\n

ACCESSORIES:<\/p>\n

Bible [?]<\/p>\n

Bible Cover [?]<\/p>\n

And, I must say, it\u2019s a nice cover. I look to where it sits on the passenger seat with the \u201cKJV\u201d (whatever that means) Bible tucked inside\u2014intensely spiritual with a tapestry print of a country church. And the faux tortoiseshell handles! Nice touch.<\/p>\n

Twist pen with 7 different scriptures [?]<\/p>\n

One for every day of the week.<\/p>\n

\u201cFootprints in the Sand\u201d bookmark [?]<\/p>\n

Touching poem. And a surprise ending too!<\/p>\n

Fish emblem [?]<\/p>\n

\u201cOops!\u201d I open the ashtray, dig out the emblem, and drop it in my lap. \u201cCheck!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus is my pilot\u201d bumper sticker [?]<\/p>\n

Crown of thorns air freshener [?]<\/p>\n

I glance at the scented disk that hangs from my rearview mirror. Stinks, but nicely visible\u2014practically screams \u201cThis is one serious Christian.\u201d<\/p>\n

CHRISTIAN SPEAK:<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus is my savior.\u201d [?]<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus died for my sins.\u201d [?]<\/p>\n

I close my eyes and run the lingo through my mind. \u201cGot it!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m praying for you.\u201d [?]<\/p>\n

I wonder how many Christians really do.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to pray about that.\u201d [?]<\/p>\n

Otherwise known as \u201cNo way, Jose’!\u201d Or, in these parts, the \u201cNashville no.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBless his\/her heart.\u201d [?]<\/p>\n

Sympathetic aside tacked to a derogatory remark about someone to make it acceptable (possibly exclusive to the South, as I\u2019d never heard it before moving to Nashville four months ago).<\/p>\n

\u201cMy brother\/sister in Christ.\u201d [?]<\/p>\n

\u201cGod\u2019s timing.\u201d [?]<\/p>\n

\u201cHave a blessed day.\u201d [?]<\/p>\n

\u201cYours in Christ.\u201d [?]<\/p>\n

Must remember to use that last one for note cards and such.<\/p>\n

MISCELLANEOUS:<\/p>\n

Church [?]<\/p>\n

That one on West End should do\u2014respectable-looking and big enough to allow me to slip in and out undetected should I need to place myself in that setting. Of course, I hope the need does not arise. Not that I\u2019m not a believer. I am. Sort of. I mean, I was \u201csaved\u201d years ago. Even went through the dunking process\u2014the whole water up the nose thing (should not have panicked). But the truth is that, other than occasionally attending church with my grandmother before and after I was saved, my faith is relatively green. Hence, the need for a checklist.<\/p>\n

Testimony [ ]<\/p>\n

\u201cUh! Just had to leave that one for last, Maizy. Yes, \u201cMaizy,\u201d as in \u201cMaizy Grace.\u201d Courtesy of one Grandma Maizy, one Grandma Grace, and one mother with a penchant for wordplay. Amazing grace! And Mom is not even a Christian. But Dad\u2019s mom is. According to Grace Stewart, the only thing my parents did right was to name me after her. I beg to differ. I mean\u2026Maizy Grace? Though growing up I did my best to keep it under wraps, my mom blew it during a three-girl sleepover when she trilled upstairs, \u201cOh, Maizy Grace! How sweet the sound. Won\u2019t you girls come on down?\u201d Fodder for girlhood enemies like Cynthia Sircy who beat me out for student council representative by making an issue of my \u201cgoody two shoes\u201d name. And that\u2019s why I never use \u201cGrace.\u201d Of course, it could prove useful today.<\/p>\n

I return to my checklist. \u201cTestimony\u2026\u201d I glance at the dashboard clock that reveals I\u2019ve blown ten of my twenty minutes leeway. Guess I\u2019ll have to think up a testimony on my way in to the interview. Not that I don\u2019t have a story of how I came to know Jesus. It\u2019s just boring. Hmm. Maybe I could expand on my Christian summer camp experience\u2014throw in an encounter with a bear or some other woodland creature with big teeth. Speaking of which\u2026<\/p>\n

I check my teeth in the mirror. Pale pink lipstick is so boring. Glaringly chaste. Borderline anti-sexual. Of course, that is the effect I\u2019m after. All good.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, Maizy\u2014er, Grr-ace\u2014get in there and get that job.\u201d A job I badly need if I\u2019m to survive starting over in Nashville, as my part-time position as a lifestyle reporter at the paper has yet to translate into the full-time position I was led to believe it would after three months. Funds are getting low.<\/p>\n

I fold my checklist and stick it in the book I picked up at Borders the day I surfed the classified ads and hit on \u201cSeeking editorial assistant for Christian company.\u201d Editorial assistant\u2014a far cry from reporter. In fact, beneath me, but what\u2019s a girl to do?<\/p>\n

Closing the book, I smile at the title: The Dumb Blonde\u2019s Guide to Christianity. Not that I\u2019m blond\u2014leastwise, not naturally. Another glance in the mirror confirms that although the $7.99 over-the-counter bottle of blond is no $75 salon experience, it lives up to its claim. Not brassy at all. Still, maybe I should have gone back to basic brown so I wouldn\u2019t have to worry about roots. But talk about boring.<\/p>\n

I toss the book on the passenger seat, retrieve the fish emblem and my purse, and swing my legs out the car door. After \u201chipping\u201d the door closed, I hurry to the back. Unfortunately, unlike the bumper sticker, there seems no non-permanent way to apply the emblem. Thus, I have no choice but to pull off the backing and slap the fish on the trunk lid. Not sure what it symbolizes, but I can figure that out later\u2014if I get the job.<\/p>\n

I lower my gaze to the \u201cJesus is my pilot\u201d bumper sticker. Nice statement, especially with the addition of the fish. Honestly, who wouldn\u2019t believe I\u2019m a deeply committed Christian? And if someone should call me on it, I could be forgiven\u2014it is April 1st\u2014as in April Fools\u2019 Day.<\/p>\n

As I start to look away, the peeling lower edge of the bumper sticker catches my eye. Should have used more Scotch tape. I reach down.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s crooked.\u201d<\/p>\n

The accented matter-of-fact voice makes me freeze. I\u2019m certain it was directed at me, but did he say \u201cIt\u2019s crooked\u201d or \u201cShe\u2019s crooked\u201d? Surely the latter is merely a Freudian slip of my mind. And even if it isn\u2019t, I\u2019m not crooked. Just desperate.<\/p>\n

As the man behind me could be an employee of Steeple Side Christian Resources, I muster a smile and turn. The first thing I notice where he stands six feet back is his fashionably distressed jeans. Meaning he can\u2019t be an employee. And certainly isn\u2019t looking for a hand out\u2014even better (though I sympathize with the plight of the homeless, they make me very uncomfortable). So he\u2019s probably just passing through the parking lot. Perhaps heading for Steeple Side\u2019s retail store that occupies a portion of the lower floor of their corporate offices.<\/p>\n

The next item of note is his shirt\u2014a nice cream linen button up that allows a glimpse of tanned collarbone. I like it. What I don\u2019t like is his face\u2014rather, expression. If not for his narrowed eyes and flat-lined mouth, he\u2019d be halfway attractive with that sweep of dark blond hair, matching eyebrows, and decent cheekbones. Maybe even three-quarters, but that would be pushing it, as his two-day shadow can\u2019t hide a lightly scarred jaw. Teenage acne?<\/p>\n

I gesture behind. \u201cMy bumper sticker seems to be coming off.\u201d<\/p>\n

He lowers his green eyes over me, and though I may simply be paranoid, I\u2019m certain he gives my cross earrings and necklace, button-up collar, and below-knee skirt more attention than is warranted. He glances at the bumper sticker before returning his regard to me. \u201cYes, it is coming off.\u201d<\/p>\n

British. I\u2019m certain of it. Nowhere near the Southern drawl one more often encounters in Nashville.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course…\u201d He crosses his arms over his chest. \u201c\u2026that\u2019s because you\u2019re using tape.\u201d<\/p>\n

That obvious? \u201cWell, doesn\u2019t everyone?\u201d Ugh! Can\u2019t believe I said that. Maybe there is something to the warning that you are what you read, as I could not have sounded more like the stereotypical dumb blonde if I had tried.<\/p>\n

He raises an eyebrow. \u201cEveryone? Not if they want it to adhere permanently. You do, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Guilt flushes me, and is followed by panic even though I have no reason to fear that this stranger with the gorgeously clipped accent might expose me as a fake. \u201cOf course I do!\u201d<\/p>\n

Is that a smile? \u201cSplendid, then I\u2019ll let you in on a little secret.\u201d<\/p>\n

Delicious accent or not, that doesn\u2019t sound good. It isn\u2019t, as evidenced by his advance. I step aside, and he drops to his haunches and begins peeling away the tape. \u201cYou see\u2026\u201d Holding up the sticker, he looks over his shoulder and squints against the sunlight at my back. \u201c\u2026self adhesive.\u201d He peels off the backing, positions the sticker, and presses it onto my bumper\u2014my previously adhesive-free bumper.<\/p>\n

He straightens. That is a smile\u2014one that makes him look a bit like that new James Bond actor. What\u2019s his name?<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d be surprised at how much technology has advanced over the last few years,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n

I nearly miss his sarcasm, genteelly embedded as it is in that accent. \u201cWell, who would have thought?\u201d Be nice, Maizy\u2014er, Grace. My smile feels tight. In fact, my whole face feels as if lathered by Lava soap. \u201cI can\u2019t tell you how much I appreciate you taking the time to affix my bumper sticker properly.\u201d<\/p>\n

He inclines his head. \u201cIf you\u2019d like, I\u2019ll try to straighten your fish.\u201d<\/p>\n

My\u2026? It\u2019s crooked, he said. Not the bumper sticker\u2014my fish. Meaning he probably saw me stick it on. Were he more than a passerby, I\u2019d be deeply embarrassed. \u201cNo, thank you. I like my fish slightly crooked.\u201d I glance at the emblem that appears to have its nose stuck in the air. \u201cIt makes him look as if he\u2019s fighting the current. You know, like a good Christian.\u201d<\/p>\n

Very good, Ma\u2014Grr-ace! Were he a Steeple Side employee, you would have won him over.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019re a Christian?\u201d<\/p>\n

So much for my self-congratulatory pat on the back. Of course, maybe his question is academic. I mean, it\u2019s obvious I\u2019m a Christian. \u201cOf course! A Christian. And proud of it.\u201d Good practice. Unfortunately, if his frown is anything to go by, I\u2019m in need of more. \u201cEr, Jesus is my savior.\u201d Knew Christian speak would come in handy.<\/p>\n

His frown deepens.<\/p>\n

Or maybe not. Making a show of checking my watch, I gasp. Nothing at all fake about that, as most of my leeway has been gobbled up. Thankfully, I was lucky to\u2014<\/p>\n

No, blessed. Must think as well as speak \u201cChristian.\u201d Thankfully, I was blessed to snag a parking space at the front of the building\u2014the only one, as the dozen marked VISITOR spaces were taken, and the remaining spaces on either side of mine are reserved for upper management, as evidenced by personalized signs.<\/p>\n

I fix a smile. \u201cThank you again for your help. If you\u2019ll excuse me, I have an appointment.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCertainly.\u201d<\/p>\n

I step forward and, as I pass within two feet of him, take a whiff. Some type of citrus-y cologne. Nice. Not sharp or cloying. Unlike Ben whose cologne of choice made my nasal passages burn. And the Brit is nearly six feet tall to my five foot six. Not so tall I couldn\u2019t wear three-inch heels for fear of shooting up past him. Unlike Ben who\u2019d limited me to one-inch heels\u2014<\/p>\n

Go away! Another reason to leave Seattle. With his liberal application of cologne and compact height and build, Ben was nowhere near the man for me. Not that his scent and size was the worst of him. Far from it. And am I glad to be far from him.<\/p>\n

As I step to the sidewalk, I\u2019m tempted to glance behind at the nicely-proportioned, bumper-sticker happy Brit. Temptation wins out.<\/p>\n

Thumbs hooked in his pockets, he stands alongside my passenger door. Watching me.<\/p>\n

Feeling as if caught doing something wrong, I jerk a hand up and scroll through my \u201cChristian speak\u201d for something to reinforce my claim of being a Christian. \u201cYours in Christ!\u201d I flash a smile that instantly falters.<\/p>\n

At the rumpling of his brow, I jerk around and head for the smoked glass doors of Steeple Side Christian Resources. Cannot believe I used a written salutation! Dumb blonde alert! Speaking of which\u2026.<\/p>\n

The Dumb Blonde\u2019s Guide to Christianity is on the passenger seat. Fortunately, if the man is nosey enough to scope out the interior of my car, it\u2019s not as if I\u2019ll see him again. That scrumptious accent and citrus cologne was a one-time thing. Unless he does work at Steeple Side and I do get the job. Fat chance.<\/p>\n

As I pull open one of several sets of glass doors, I glance behind. He\u2019s on the sidewalk now, head back as he peers up the twenty-some floors of the building. Definitely not an employee.<\/p>\n

The lobby is bright and sparsely furnished, but what stops me is the backlit thirty-foot cross on the far wall. Fashioned out of what appears to be brushed aluminum, it\u2019s glaringly simple. And yet I can\u2019t imagine it having more presence.<\/p>\n

Crossing to the information desk at the center of the lobby, I scope out the men and women who are entering and exiting the elevators. All nicely dressed. All conservative. I\u2019ll fit right in\u2014<\/p>\n

I zoom in on a woman who\u2019s stepping into the nearest elevator. Her skirt is above the knee by a couple inches. And that guy who just stepped out of another elevator? His hair brushes his shoulders.<\/p>\n

I shift my gaze back to the towering cross. I\u2019m at the right place, meaning those two are probably visitors. Same goes for the young woman who sweeps past and reaches the information desk ahead of me. Not only is she wearing ruched capris, but she has my hair. Rather, the hair I had. Ha! If she\u2019s after my job, I\u2019ve got her beat.<\/p>\n

She drops a jingly purse on the desk and points past me where I\u2019ve halted behind. \u201cJack is so hot!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d The chubby-faced receptionist bounds out of her chair, only to falter at the sight of me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, hot!\u201d The \u201cruched\u201d young woman jabs the air again, looks around, and startles. \u201cEr, not \u2018hot hot.\u2019 \u2018Hot,\u2019 as in under the collar\u2026ticked off.\u201d<\/p>\n

That\u2019s my cue to appear relieved that she didn\u2019t mean \u201chot,\u201d as in \u201ccarnal,\u201d as she\u2019s obviously connected to this company\u2014at least, the receptionist. I nod. \u201cThat\u2019s a relief.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiles, then puts her forearms on the desk and leans in to whisper in a not too whisper-y voice, \u201cThis time they stole his assigned parking sign.\u201d<\/p>\n

It would make me \u201chot\u201d too if someone stole mine. Doubtless, some visitor would snap up my space and I\u2019d have to park\u2014<\/p>\n

Oh no. The front parking space I snagged\u2026 The only unmarked space in the middle of dozens of marked spaces\u2026<\/p>\n

I look around and peer out the bank of glass windows. The Brit whose parking space I took, and who does work here, is striding toward the doors. And he does look hot, though I can\u2019t be sure whether it\u2019s more in the carnal way or the angry way. Regardless, I am not getting this job.<\/p><\/div>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/h3>\n

You can read my September 22 review of Faking Grace here<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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 […]<\/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],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-750","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/750","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=750"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/750\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":753,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/750\/revisions\/753"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=750"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=750"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=750"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}