A Cooking Bookworm

Chasing Mona Lisa by Tricia Goyer and Mike Yorkey

2012-01-25T07:00:00.000-05:00

ABOUT THE BOOK:

It is August 1944 and Paris is on the cusp of liberation. As the soldiers of the Third Reich flee the Allied advance, they ravage the country, stealing countless pieces of art. Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring will stop at nothing to claim the most valuable one of all, the Mona Lisa, as a post-war bargaining chip to get him to South America. Can Swiss OSS agents Gabi Mueller and Eric Hofstadler rescue DaVinci's masterpiece before it falls into German hands?

With nonstop action, Chasing Mona Lisa is sure to get readers' adrenaline pumping as they join the chase to save the most famous painting in the world. From war-ravaged Paris to a posh country chateau, the race is on--and the runners are playing for keeps.

Read an excerpt, watch a video and find out more HERE.

MY THOUGHTS:
I have always loved stories set in WWII. The exciting fictional tales are often soundly based on the true horror, intrigue, and countless nameless heroes of that time. As much as I love the suspense created from the WWII era, I like some romance thrown in as well!

Chasing Mona Lisa had more action and less romance than I prefer. I’m guessing the male half of the authorship had to do with that. The ‘bad guy’ stuff was also a bit more blood-and-guts violent than I like (I know, I know…it’s war, but…).

At the very beginning of the book, I was a bit uncomfortable with Eric and Gabi’s encounter with the soldiers. Again, I know worse things have happened, but I didn’t see the point and it made me uncomfortable and set me on guard for the rest of the book.

Chasing Mona Lisa, from the truth standpoint, was fascinating. The French people took such care with their priceless artwork, so that it would not fall into Nazi hands.

From the fictional aspect, Chasing Mona Lisa wasn’t my favorite WWII-era book. I believe Chasing Mona Lisa can be read as a standalone novel, but I had forgotten many of the characters from The Swiss Courier (Goyer/Yorkey's first book together) and didn’t think the characters were reintroduced well. Thus, I felt a bit confused with a few of the characters, only having a vague remembrance of them. This left a few gaps in the flow of the story.

Overall, I think Yorkey wrote a bigger percentage of Chasing Mona Lisa than Goyer, and the finished product ended up being too much war and not enough love for me.

As a side note, after reading the sources that the authors used, I borrowed The Rape of Europa from Netflix. I would highly recommend this documentary, even if you’re not into art (which I’m not). This very interesting film shows how each country’s precious art was moved, hidden, stolen, destroyed, and recovered throughout WWII. Watching the documentary put the book into a better perspective for me.

That's what I thought! Click HERE to see what other bloggers are saying about Chasing Mona Lisa.

GIVEAWAY ALERT!
Chasing Mona Lisa is the continuing tale of Gabi Mueller and Eric Hofstadler (first introduced in The Swiss Courier). This time the duo are on a relentless quest to save the most famous painting in the world - the Mona Lisa. You can help Gabi and Eric with your very own spy pack when you enter The Chasing Mona Lisa Giveaway!

One passionate protector will receive:

iTouch (The must-have device for any spy. Camera, Maps, and Music)
Starbucks Gift Card (For all those late nights)
Moleskin Notebook (For those important notes)
Invisible Ink Pen (Don’t want anyone reading those important notes)
Chasing Mona Lisa by Tricia Goyer and Mike Yorkey (Great
handbook and intriguing tale for any spy-in-training!)

Enter today by clicking the banner above. But hurry, the giveaway ends at noon on January 31st. The winner will be announced at the Chasing Mona Lisa Facebook Party on 1/31.

Thank you to Tricia, Mike, and Bethany House through Litfuse for sending me a copy to read and review!

Also reviewed on Amazon.

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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A Mile in His Shoes DVD Review and GIVEAWAY!

2012-01-16T12:45:00.000-05:00

Looking for a movie the whole family can watch? A Mile in His Shoes fits the bill.

Mickey, a young man diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome (a form of autism), is discovered by a minor league baseball coach and offered a spot on the team. His parents reluctantly agree and Mickey is thrust into a world of new, and sometimes frightening, experiences.

Jealous teammate Lefty causes trouble for Mickey, but the boy's spirit is not broken. Despite the obstacles, Mickey's determination becomes an inspiration for his whole team, and even his gruff and skeptical father.

The PG rating concerned me, but I did not find anything alarming. **SPOILER:** Mickey is invited to a party by a fellow teammate whose jealousy has given root to evil intentions towards the newest member of the team. The scenes suggest that drinking may be going on, but no closeups or offers to Mickey are given. When Mickey is taken away from the party and overwhelmed by 'bad guys,' the beating isn't shown - you just assume that's what happens - as the movie quickly progresses to the next scene.**

Based on a true story, A Mile in His Shoes is a family-friendly movie that teaches both acceptance and perseverance. Our whole family enjoyed watching Mickey's story.

WATCH THE TRAILER:

WANT TO WIN IT?
One of my readers will win her own copy of A Mile in His Shoes!

I'm going to begin using Rafflecopter for all future giveaways! Keeps me much better organized and it's a bit easier for you, too! Enter below to WIN a copy of A Mile in His Shoes:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

A special thank you to Angie from Propeller for sending me a DVD to review and one to giveaway on my blog!

Also reviewed on Amazon.

**Disclosure: I received one or more of the products or services mentioned above for free in the hope that I would mention in on my blog. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I use personally and believe will be good for my readers. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: 'Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.' Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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My Memories WINNER and a FREEBIE!

2012-01-10T13:53:00.000-05:00

*EDIT* I had to draw another winner, as the first one never answered my email!*

Congratulations to RaettigFamily, the winner of the digital scrapbooking software, My Memories Suite! I am really impressed with the program and hope you'll have a great time with it!

For the rest of you, I've got a beautiful freebie from My Memories to share! It's two beautiful quick pages that you can use! Click HERE to download!

My Memories is very affordable, but you can get an additional $10 off (plus a $10 gift certificate to be used at the store) when you type STMMMS7975 into the promo code box at checkout! Click on the banner below to order today!

Thank you again to Liz at My Memories for sharing this powerful program with my readers!

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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The Maid of Fairbourne Hall by Julie Klassen

2012-01-02T10:16:00.000-05:00

This week, CFBA is introducing The Maid of Fairbourne Hall by Julie Klassen.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Pampered Margaret Macy flees London in disguise to escape pressure to marry a dishonorable man. With no money and nowhere else to go, she takes a position as a housemaid in the home of Nathaniel Upchurch, a suitor she once rejected in hopes of winning his dashing brother. Praying no one will recognize her, Margaret fumbles through the first real work of her life. If she can last until her next birthday, she will gain an inheritance from a spinster aunt--and sweet independence. But can she remain hidden as a servant even when prying eyes visit Fairbourne Hall?

Observing both brothers as an "invisible" servant, Margaret learns she may have misjudged Nathaniel. Is it too late to rekindle his admiration? And when one of the family is nearly killed, Margaret alone discovers who was responsible. Should she come forward, even at the risk of her reputation and perhaps her life? And can she avoid an obvious trap meant to force her from hiding?

On her journey from wellborn lady to servant to uncertain future, Margaret must learn to look past appearances and find the true meaning of "serve one another in love."

MY THOUGHTS:
Wow.

This summer, I saw PBS' Manor House. This was the perfect preparation for The Maid of Fairbourne Hall. I could easily understand the 'belowstairs' world, imagining the servant's quarters as well as the tiring, menial tasks that became 'Nora's' daily chores. I was quite surprised that a pampered, somewhat spoiled, girl would stick with her ruse!

I read The Maid of Fairbourne Hall in 2 days. Julie has such a knack for making her books feel like you're watching a favorite, well-loved, I-could-watch-a-million-times-and-not-be-bored movie (ie: any of BBC's period drama pieces like Pride and Prejudice or Cranford).

The Maid of Fairbourne Hall had the perfect blend of romance and mystery. I finished the last chapter, wanting to read it again...or wishing that Julie already had another book published! :-)

FOR YOU, a peek inside the book:
The Maid of Fairbourne Hall

Thank you to Julie and Bethany House through CFBA for sending me a copy to read and review!

Also reviewed on Amazon.

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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My Memories Software Review and GIVEAWAY!

2011-12-20T11:30:00.000-05:00

Have you ever wished you could get into digital scrapbooking, but aren't sure where to start? Or, you're just plain overwhelmed after hearing you'll need expensive programs or have to scour the internet for digital scrapbooking kits?

Well, I've got good news for you! I was recently introduced to My Memories, an affordable and powerful digital scrapbooking software.

In just minutes (yes!), I was able to utilize the pre-installed templates and quick pages and come up with these pages:

I simply placed my photos in the above pages. For the page below, I tweaked (customized) a bit. I was able to change the colors, add frames and shadows to the photos, and add a few swirly embellishments:

But don't feel like you'll be blocked in by a template or quick page! The My Memories Suite also allows you to build your page from scratch, so you can let every bit of your creativity shine!

I am very impressed with My Memories scrapbook software. I have previously used a photo editing program that is very expensive and has a very tough learning curve. My Memories' interface is easy to use and fairly self-explanatory (but they've got some great tutorials if you need them)!

Also, some things that took me hours to figure out in my editing program (like customizing drop shadows, frames, etc), are simple click and pick in My Memories! Impressive!

I also love that everything is so organized in the program!!! If you want an embellishment, click embellishment...and then be offered subcategories, like buttons, brads, flowers, etc). For me that was huge! I have spent hours trying to organize some of my digi scrap material that I've downloaded in the past and it was great to have things already organized for me!

And you can customize just about anything! A few elements, like specific word art, may not be able to be changed in certain templates, but almost everything can be tweaked to fit your style! I love that, too!!

My Memories makes it easy to add to your collection, too! You can buy kits directly through them and they will install to your program. You can also join their Design Club, for 5 kits a month, plus other great discounts!

My Memories is very affordable, but you can get $10 off (plus a $10 gift certificate to be used at the store) when you type STMMMS7975 into the promo code box at checkout! What better way to showcase your holiday pictures!!

And, for you!! My Memories is giving away a copy of their amazing digital scrapbook software to one of my readers!!

GIVEAWAY ALERT!

Want to WIN IT? One winner will receive the My Memories software. To enter, visit My Memories and tell me your favorite kit or layout in the gallery! For additional entries (must do above to qualify for extra entries!),

Follow my blog publicly via Google Friend Connect (sidebar) or a feed reader or subscribe by email (must confirm subscription). Comment and let me know! If you're already a follower/subscriber, comment and let me know! (1 entry)
Blog about my giveaway and leave me a link to your post! (1 entry)
Follow A Cooking Bookworm via Networked Blogs. Comment and let me know! (1 entry)
Enter my giveaway URL into another blog's giveaway McLinky and send me the link so I can see it! (1 entry)
Snag my blog button (in the far right column) and leave a comment with the link! (1 entry)
Like A Cooking Bookworm on facebook and leave me a comment saying so! (1 entry)
Follow My Memories on their blog, facebook, or twitter and leave me a comment saying so! (1 entry for each)
Sign up for Swagbucks using my referral link! Comment and give me your Swag Name! (10 entries!)
Follow A Cooking Bookworm on Twitter and tweet this giveaway [be sure to include @CookingBookworm] (1 entry, daily)

Entries that do not fulfill guidelines will be deleted, so read carefully!

Entries accepted until Sunday, January 8, 11:59 PM (EST). Winner(s) will be chosen by random.org and winner(s) will be notified by email. Winner(s) must confirm prize email within 48 hours or another winner(s) will be chosen.

Thank you to Liz from My Memories for sending me a copy to review!

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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Counting Down the Days! Paper Chain Christmas Tree and Advent Calendar

2011-12-01T12:07:00.001-05:00

I wanted to make a paper chain for my children this year. I saw this idea on Pinterest, and quickly put one together for each of the kids while they hung the ornaments on the tree. We've already torn off the first chain (which would be between the 2 bottom chains). You can see a full one here - I just looked at her picture while assembling.

Another very special, not-new tradition is our Advent Calendar. I found this one a couple of years ago at Lowe's, during after-Christmas sales. It's heavy cardboard and was purty ugly...so I covered it with scrapbook papers. I've got my eye on an unfinished wooden one at A.C. Moore, and hope to snag that after Christmas this year! I'll paint and snazz it up, and that one should last a bit better than this one is.

Each box has 2 pieces of candy and a Bible verse pertaining to the Lord Jesus' birth (both Old Testament prophecy and New Testament accounts, ending with Romans 10:9-10,13) that we read as a family each night as part of our family Bible time.

What special family traditions do you keep during Christmas?

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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Tea Holiday Collection

2011-12-01T11:30:00.000-05:00

Ho! Ho! Ho! Time to start your Christmas shopping, if you haven't already!! Here's another GIFT ALERT for you!

We have a special Christmas Eve tradition in our house.

We shut off all of the lights, but the tree, pop in our $1 'yule log' with Christmas carols dvd, and get out a special snack (last year, it was a bucket of mini eclairs! Yum!).

Then, the kids are given one gift to open.

The gift is always a new pair of cozy jammies to wear all Christmas day.

You may recall a review I did this summer of clothing from Tea.

I was pleased to have the opportunity to check out some of Tea's pajamas, including their new Holiday designs.

As with the previous Tea outfits I had received for my daughter, the superb quality and craftmanship of the clothing are obvious as soon as you open the package.

Tea's pajamas are soft, 100% cotton and made to fit snugly (long-john style), perfect for both play and snuggling! They fit my children absolutely perfectly, and I love the subtle and interesting, but not overwhelming, designs.

My daughter received one of Tea's newest Holiday designs: Flying Birds. The pajamas are a beautiful deep plum color, covered with lighter purple and white doves (maybe they're not doves, but that would fit with the holiday theme, eh?) ;-)

My son was sent pajamas from Tea's everday collection: Origami. I love my little guy in blue! Origami is a deep indigo background patterned with white, blue, and bright orange origami objects, like a sailboat and dinosaur.

If you've got several children, I love that you can order these jammies for your littlest to your biggest! They're offered in sizes from 6 mos to 12 years! Did someone say, matching siblings for holiday pictures? :-)

Tea's beautiful Girl's pajamas or Boy's pajamas make a wonderful, thoughtful gift! They truly are the perfect gift for anyone - who doesn't love (and need!) new, cozy jammies?!

I have been thoroughly pleased with both the clothing and service from Tea and know YOU will be, too! So, don't wait! As my kids say, 'Only 24 more sleeps until Christmas!' Check out Tea's current selection HERE...and get shopping!

A very special thank you to Michelle from Tea for sending us such nice jammies to snuggle in!

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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Valley of Dreams by Lauraine Snelling

2011-11-23T12:45:00.000-05:00

I’m never sure whether I like Lauraine’s books or not…and I think I’ve read all of them but her Return to Red River series. Obviously, since I’ve read so many, there must be something that draws me to them (Blessing in Disguise was my favorite book, because it felt different than all of her other books).

The stories are fine, but that’s about it. I never find them overly exciting or something that I can hardly put down.

Cassie’s story in Valley of Dreams was much the same. The story just plods along, with no outstanding characters or situations to keep me riveted.

Cassie parents owned a Wild West show, into which she was born and raised. Cassie is the star sharpshooter in this traveling caravan, the only life she has ever known. After her parents die and her ‘Uncle’ disbands the show, Cassie feels her only choice is to try and find the ‘Valley of Dreams’ her father always talked of.

If you like to wait to read a series until all of the books are out, this may be one to add to that list. The ending is horrid. It just stops. Oh sure, you want to know what comes next, but the conclusion is not an exciting, hold-your-breath kind of thing. It just ends. Very abruptly.

Like I said, something makes me keep reading Lauraine’s books. I’m sure I’ll get the second book, because I would like to know more about the mystery surrounding Cassie and her father’s dream land, but I’m always a bit disappointed that her books feel the same.

Again, Valley of Dreams isn’t bad, but it wasn’t fantastic, either. If you’re looking for an easy, rainy day read, Cassie’s story will likely fit the bill.

Thank you to Lauraine and Bethany House for sending me a copy to read and review!

Also reviewed on Amazon.

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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A Lasting Impression by Tamera Alexander and TWO Giveaways!

2011-11-11T05:00:00.000-05:00

Here's another chance for you to learn about Tamera Alexander's newest book, A Lasting Impression.

I'm also letting you in on Tamera's Kindle Fire Giveaway....and, my own giveaway for my extra copy of A Lasting Impression!

YAY for you!

ABOUT THE BOOK:

A fake. A forger. More than anything, Claire Laurent longs for the chance to live an authentic life, to become the woman she wants to be. And she'll be given that choice. But will it come at too costly a price?

You can read even more about A Lasting Impression HERE.

MY THOUGHTS:

I truly empathized with Claire. She was put in a very difficult situation by her parents - forging paintings. I know we must take responsibility for our choices, but when Claire was first told to do this, she was young and how do you defy your parents, even though it IS wrong?! Just that dilemma alone (and the thought of her past ever being revealed) held me captive throughout the book.

I loved the time period and the rich setting of Belmont. What a beautiful sounding place! I wasn't sure if I liked Adelicia or not, but apparently, that's how she was in real life (one moment a bit hard; the next, as sweet as cream). I really liked how Tamera wove a real historical character into her fictionalized story. I must say that I didn't approve of the drinking mentioned at the parties. I understood the time period and social set; I just don't think it ever needs to be mentioned.

Overall, I enjoyed Claire's story!

See what the other Litfuse reviewers are saying about A Lasting Impression HERE!

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And, now here are the TWO giveaways for you!

Tamera and her publisher, Bethany House, are hosting A Lasting Impression Kindle Fire Giveaway a Southern-Style Facebook party with a TON of Giveaways! (Click on the banner to the left for all of the details and to enter!)

And, I am giving away my extra copy to one of my readers! You can follow the instructions below to enter MY giveaway!

GIVEAWAY ALERT!

Want to WIN IT? One winner will receive a copy of Tamera's newest book, A Lasting Impression. To enter, tell me the most recent book you've read and whether you liked it or not! For additional entries (must do above to qualify for extra entries!),

Follow my blog publicly via Google Friend Connect (sidebar) or a feed reader or subscribe by email (must confirm subscription). Comment and let me know! If you're already a follower/subscriber, comment and let me know! (1 entry)
Blog about my giveaway and leave me a link to your post! (1 entry)
Follow A Cooking Bookworm via Networked Blogs. Comment and let me know! (1 entry)
Enter my giveaway URL into another blog's giveaway McLinky and send me the link so I can see it! (1 entry)
Snag my blog button (in the far right column) and leave a comment with the link! (1 entry)
Fan A Cooking Bookworm on facebook and leave me a comment saying so! (1 entry)
Follow A Cooking Bookworm on Twitter and tweet this giveaway! (1 entry, daily)

Entries that do not fulfill guidelines will be deleted, so read carefully!

Entries accepted until Sunday, November 27, 11:59 PM (EST).
Winner(s) will be chosen by random.org and winner(s) will be notified by email. Winner(s) must confirm prize email within 48 hours or another winner(s) will be chosen.

Thank you to Tamera and Bethany House through Litfuse for sending me a copy to read and review!

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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A Lasting Impression by Tamera Alexander

2011-11-02T11:50:00.000-04:00

I can't believe it!

I couldn't understand why two copies of A Lasting Impression showed up in my mailbox, only days apart. I searched my emails and finally figured it out.

After (how many?!) years of reviewing books and keeping schedules for tours straight, I finally goofed...and signed up to review this book through two different groups!

So, I'm turning my unfortunate error into something good for you! You can read a little bit about the book in this post, and I will be posting my review in the next! I will also be GIVING AWAY my extra copy during the next tour!! So stay tuned... ;-)

And my sincere apologies to Bethany House for my mistake!! :-(

******************************

So, today, CFBA introduces A Lasting Impression by Tamera Alexander.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Tamera Alexander is the best-selling author of Rekindled, Revealed and Remembered, the critically acclaimed Fountain Creek Chronicles historical series with Bethany House Publishers. Her second historical series, Timber Ridge Reflections (From a Distance, Beyond This Moment, and Within My Heart) continue her signature style of deeply drawn characters, thought-provoking plots, and poignant prose which has earned her devoted readers—and multiple industry awards.

These awards include the 2009 and 2008 Christy Award for Excellence in Christian Fiction, the 2010 and 2007 RITA Award for Best Inspirational Romance, the 2010 and 2007 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, the 2010 HOLT Medallion, the 2007 Bookseller’s Best Award, the 2007 National Reader's Choice Award, and Library Journal’s Top Christian Fiction for 2006, among others.

Tamera's newest novel A Lasting Impression is the first of a brand new three-book Southern historical series, and the first two chapters are available for review. She's at work on her ninth novel which will release in fall 2012.

After living in Colorado for seventeen years, Tamera has returned to her Southern roots. She and her husband now make their home in Nashville, Tennessee, along with Tamera's father, Doug, and with their two adult children who live near by. And don't forget Jack, their precious--and precocious--silky terrier.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

To create something that will last is Claire Laurent's most fervent desire as an artist. It's also her greatest weakness. When her fraud of a father deals her an unexpected hand, Claire is forced to flee from New Orleans to Nashville, only a year after the War Between the States has ended. Claire's path collides with that of Sutton Monroe, and she considers him a godsend for not turning her in to the authorities. But when they meet again and he refuses to come to her aid, she realizes she's sorely misjudged the man. Trading an unwanted destiny for an unknown future, Claire finds herself in the middle of Nashville's elite society and believes her dream of creating a lasting impression in the world of art may finally be within reach.

All that Sutton Monroe holds dear lies in ruin. He's determined to reclaim his heritage and to make the men who murdered his father pay. But what he discovers on his quest for vengeance reveals a truth that may cost him more than he ever imagined.

Set at Nashville's historical Belmont Mansion, a stunning antebellum manor built by Mrs. Adelicia Acklen, the richest woman in America in the 1860s, A Lasting Impression showcases the deep, poignant, unforgettable characters that set Tamera's stories apart and provides an inspiring love story that will capture readers' hearts and leave them eager for more.

AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:

A Lasting Impression

Many thanks to Tamera and Bethany House through CFBA for sending me a copy to read and review!

Will also be reviewed on Amazon and Christianbook.

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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His Steadfast Love by Golden Keyes Parsons

2011-10-28T06:00:00.000-04:00

Our country is pretty divided nowadays, but I just can’t imagine living during the Civil War. What an awful time for our nation.

His Steadfast Love takes you to coastal Texas during the conflict between the North and the South. As the war dawns, Amanda Belle falls in love with a captain of the federal troops. When Texas secedes, Captain Kent Littlefield must return north to fight with the Union soldiers. Amanda’s own brother enlists with his fellow Johnny Rebs.

Amanda’s father forbids any contact with a northerner, so a courtship with her beloved Kent seems doomed. But when her father’s disapproval is no longer an issue, Amanda’s brother’s bitterness threatens to keep the hatred against the north (and Kent) alive.

I am always a bit nervous when reading a new-to-me author, but I really enjoyed this introduction to Golden Keyes Parsons. His Steadfast Love felt like I was watching Vivien Leigh in Gone With the Wind; and although Amanda is nothing like Scarlett O’Hara, many of the struggles, emotions, and even circumstances seemed much the same as I was immersed in the story.

I loved the rich, historical detail, as well as pertinent quotes from leaders and writings of the era that Golden included at the beginning of each chapter.

His Steadfast Love was an easy story to enjoy!

Thank you to Golden and Thomas Nelson through Book Sneeze for sending me a copy to read and review!

Also reviewed on Amazon and Christianbook.

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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No-Sugar Apple Pie

2011-10-26T13:44:00.002-04:00

In our family's attempt to eat healthier, one of the things that has been the hardest to cut back on is SUGAR.

I rarely crave a bag of salty chips...but, whisper icy, cold Coke or Dove chocolate or OREOS in my ear and it's all downhill from there!

We're working on it, though!

I made some cookies for a church get-together a few weeks ago, and when I pulled down my white sugar tub from the pantry, I realized it's been several weeks since I've used it!!

Now, lest you think I haven't had sweets: I *have* been using demerara (unrefined sugar), but have also been able to utilize honey in many of my recipes. Knowing that both honey and demerara are more expensive than refined white sugar, it has made it a bit easier for me to cut back on the amount of sweetener called for in a recipe (oftentimes as much as half)! That's a step in the right direction, too!

My cousin sent me an apple pie recipe that I just had to try! No sugar! No artificial sweeteners, either!

(BEWARE! Usually, anything packaged in the store that is labeled 'no sugar,' just means that it's full of artificial sweeteners... eww).

The pie takes a bit more time (especially if you've gotten into the bad habit of using storebought crusts, which I had...), but it is delicious and well worth the extra effort!

I would also recommend using a sweeter apple; avoid Granny Smiths, which will make the pie too tart.

NO SUGAR APPLE PIE

Crust:
2 cups whole wheat flour (I use WW pastry flour)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup (1 stick) cold butter
1/4 cup palm shortening
1/3 cup ice cold water (may need more or less for dough to come together)

Filling:
6 oz. frozen unsweetened apple juice concentrate
2-1/2 tablespoons flour (I use WW pastry)
1 teaspoon cinnamon
6 medium apples, cored, peeled, and sliced
1/2-3/4 teaspoon nutmeg (optional)

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

For crust, combine flour and baking powder in a bowl and mix together. Using a pastry blender or fork, cut in butter and shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Make a well in the center and pour in water. Using fork or fingers, form dough into a ball. Don't overwork. Divide dough in half. Roll out one portion on a well-floured surface until it is large enough to cover the bottom and sides of a 9-inch pie plate. Place bottom crust in pan. Roll out second portion for top crust.

For filling: In a small saucepan, combine the frozen juice concentrate, flour, and cinnamon. Stir constantly over medium heat until the mixture is thick and bubbly, 3-5 minutes (will look like thick caramel). Peel and slice the apples and stir them into the juice mixture. Pour the ingredients into the unbaked pie shell, sprinkle with nutmeg, and dot with butter, if desired. Position the top crust over the filling, cutting slits for steam to escape. Trim and seal edges.

Bake at 450 for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 and bake 30 minutes more.

After cutting, the pie certainly gave off more juice than my sugar pies, but the crust was not soggy. Overall, I was very pleased with using juice concentrate for the sweetener! It worked very, very well. I've bought grape juice concentrate to try a blueberry pie next!!

I would love to know if you try this recipe!!

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
___________________________________

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Wonderland Creek by Lynn Austin

2011-10-19T11:40:00.000-04:00

Today, CFBA introduces Wonderland Creek by Lynn Austin.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Alice Grace Ripley lives in a dream world, her nose stuck in a book. But happily-ever-after life she's planned on suddenly falls apart when her boyfriend, Gordon, breaks up with her, accusing her of living in a world of fiction instead of the real world. Then to top it off, Alice loses her beloved job at the library because of cutbacks due to the Great Depression.

Fleeing small-town gossip, Alice heads to the mountains of eastern Kentucky to deliver five boxes of donated books to the library in the tiny coal-mining village of Acorn. Dropped off by her relatives, Alice volunteers to stay for two weeks to help the librarian, Leslie McDougal.

But the librarian turns out to be far different than she anticipated--not to mention the four lady librarians who travel to the remote homes to deliver the much-desired books. While Alice is trapped in Acorn against her will, she soon finds that real-life adventure and myster--and especially romance--are far better than her humble dreams could have imagined.

MY THOUGHTS:

I can hardly describe Wonderland Creek. It honestly didn’t even click with me until several chapters in that the main character was ALICE…in Wonderland. The circumstances are quite ‘Wonderland’-like. There isn’t a Cheshire Cat or Queen of Hearts, but the events seem almost unbelievable.

Not necessarily realistically speaking, but I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening unbelievable. Right from the start, I was chuckling at the description of Allie (I felt Lynn Austin was describing nose-in-a-book me)! From Allie's arrival in Kentucky to attempted murder to feuds to an ornery horse to strange, but likeable mountain people, I just kept turning pages late into the night.

Wonderland Creek was an abrupt introduction to reality for a bookworm girl, and ultimately, when I finished the last sentence, an imaginative, clever, mysterious tale that I truly enjoyed.

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AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:

Wonderland Creek

Thank you to Lynn and Bethany House, through CFBA, for sending me a copy to read and review!

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Autumn Song by Martha Rogers

2011-10-12T12:03:00.000-04:00

Today's featured author from FIRST is Martha Rogers with her book, Autumn Song.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Why does everyone think a girl’s only lot in life is to find a husband and settle down?
Kathleen Muldoon is twenty-three and tired of ranch living. Fiercely independent and determined to become a nurse, she has left her family’s ranch to study medicine under Old Doc Jensen and live in town with her Aunt Mae, who runs a boardinghouse.

Daniel Monroe has just arrived in Porterfield to set up his law practice. Sparks fly when he is introduced to Kate at the boardinghouse, but the initial attraction quickly dissolves into an argument—the first of many. Daniel is enamored with Kate but uncomfortable with her independent spirit and dreams of becoming a nurse.

When trouble erupts between the ranchers and lumberjacks over timber rights, Kate is furious to learn that Daniel has worked out an agreement she believes will destroy her father’s land. Can they overcome their pride and help each other become everything God wants them to be?

Set in the late 1800s, the Seasons of the Heart series follows the lives of four women and their families, weaving together their stories of faith, life, and love as they bond in friendship only God could orchestrate.

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Realms (October 4, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616384573
ISBN-13: 978-1616384579

MY THOUGHTS:

I have been looking forward to reading Autumn Song, ever since finishing Summer Dream, the first book in Martha's Seasons of the Heart series. My hunch was right that Martha would tell us the story of Daniel (who I mistakenly called Rachel's brother in that review post. He was Rachel's almost-boyfriend and Abigail's brother).

Although Autumn Song is the second book, it can easily be read as a standalone, following Daniel as he heads to Texas to set up a law practice and meets the Muldoon family, one independent member in particular: beautiful, spirited Kate.

I had a hard time connecting with Kate, the main character. Overly spirited and independent women often rub me the wrong way. I read into their lifted chins and stiffened shoulders as disrespectful, and it can be hard for me to like them. Even if they change, I have usually spent most of the book struggling with their character.

That can make a book move slowly for me. Autumn Song wasn't bad, but it wasn't a late-night page-turner either; I enjoyed Summer Dream much better. Still, the series itself is promising so far, and I am anxious to give book 3 a chance and see how Abigail fares with the Texas heat and the Muldoon clan!

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AND FOR YOU, the first chapter:

August 1889

Kate Muldoon, I simply can’t understand why you haven’t found yourself a husband among all the eligible men in this town.” Sarah picked up a book from the bedside table in Kate’s room. “You’re twenty-three now, and hiding yourself away to read and study all the time will not help you find the right man.”

Kate grabbed the book from her sister-in-law, who had wandered into her room for a chat. As usual, the talk had turned to men. “I don’t need a man,” Kate declared.

“How can you say that?” Sarah gasped.

Kate shook her head. Marriage and family ranked last in the things she wanted out of life right now. Kate fought against the swelling tide of anger that had landed her in trouble on more than one occasion. Why did everyone think a woman’s only role was that of a wife and mother? Sarah meant well, but then she loved living on a ranch and taking care of her husband Donavan Muldoon. Sarah believed everyone should be in love, as did her other sisters-in-law.

Once again Kate tried to explain. “Sarah, I do not intend to marry a rancher or anyone connected with cattle. I was born on a ranch, grew up on a ranch, and have lived around cattle and horses all my life so far, and I don’t plan on spending the rest of it on one.” Despite her love of horses and riding, the ranch held no pull or fascination for her as it once did when she was younger. Kate hugged her textbook to her chest. “Why do you think I’ve studied everything about Florence Nightingale and nursing and moved into town to help Aunt Mae?”
Sarah waved her hand airily, dismissing Kate’s plans. “I don’t know about that, but I do know Auntie Mae’s boardinghouse is full of men who are not ranchers. Why, there’s my cousin Seth who just moved out here to pastor our church, and then there’s Doc Jensen’s nephew who came to town to assist his uncle with the infirmary. They’re both unattached. Sometimes I think you’re just too picky.”

Picky wasn’t exactly the word Kate would choose, but preachers and doctors held no interest for her other than as people she could work with. She did enjoy working with Doc Jensen and his nephew, Elliot Jensen, but they were teaching her to be a nurse. Besides, Elliot wasn’t really a friendly sort even if he did have an excellent bedside manner with his patients.
Kate sighed. Her sister-in-law was raised in an upperclass family in Boston, where the entire focus of her life in the last few years had been on her whirlwind romance, marriage to Donavan, then moving to Texas and having Jeremy. How could she possibly understand Kate’s dreams? “I’m learning all I can about nursing and treatments so I can work more with Doctor Jensen,” she explained with as much patience as she

could muster. “He lets me help with some of the lighter cases and says I’m getting good at recognizing symptoms. Besides, I was thinking that the preacher would make a wonderful match for Erin.”

Sarah brightened at the thought. “That might not be a bad idea now that she is of marrying age. Erin would be a good wife for Seth and a good mother for their little ones. She loves little Jeremy and has been a big help to me in taking care of him.” She turned to leave. “I’ll look for you Sunday at church and then afterward for dinner out at the ranch. Now I need to rescue Auntie Mae from Jeremy.”

As if Aunt Mae needed rescuing. Kate waved her hand in the air to say good-bye. Dinner with the Muldoon clan meant much food and lots of laughter, but it also meant another boring afternoon listening to talk of cattle drives and auctions and horses by the men, and talk of babies and mothering by the women—none of which held any interest whatsoever for Kate.
Three older brothers—Brody, Donavan, and Ian—had ranches of their own, and that’s all they talked about. The fourth older brother, Cory, had his sights set on being a lawman and had moved into town to be a deputy for Marshal Slade. Erin, the baby of the family, still lived on the ranch. She’d just turned nineteen and was by far the prettiest of the Muldoon clan.
Kate welcomed Cory’s company and his presence at the boardinghouse. At least he wasn’t interested in finding a bride, and he didn’t pester her about finding a mate. He had his sights set on being a marshal himself one day and figured that job too dangerous to take a wife. Kate snorted. So it was OK

for a man to be unmarried and pursue his dreams, but not a woman.
She laid aside her book and sauntered down to the hallway to find the mail from Aunt Mae’s boarders. One of her jobs at Aunt Mae’s included taking care of the mail. With a start, she realized she’d have to hurry to get there before the afternoon train arrived.

One afternoon train from the west would be picking up mail headed for the East Coast. An earlier train had dropped off its delivery, and that mail waited for her now at the post office. Ever since the railroads had been completed, Kate had seen more men coming to town to work the ranches around the area as well as find their own land and start farming or ranching. All the land around Porterfield belonged to ranchers

and farmers, but in a state as big as Texas, there seemed to be plenty of land to go around.

She donned her wide-brimmed straw hat to ward off the sun’s rays and hurried out to complete her task. The Grayson General Store and Post Office beckoned her to hurry. The train would be here any minute. Her feet kicked up puffs of dust as she walked. Her shoes would need a good cleaning later, but she didn’t mind as she enjoyed the four-block walk to the general store that housed the post office.

When Kate stepped into the store, the balding proprietor grinned and tilted his head. “Is that mail from the boarders at your aunt’s house?”

Kate plopped the letters on the counter along with coins

for stamps. “Yes, it is.”

Mr. Grayson affixed a two-penny stamp to each envelope. “How many boarders are there now?”

Kate closed her eyes to vision the count. “Counting Cory and me, there’s eight. All but one of the rooms is filled, and Aunt Mae is happy as a lark. For some reason, men come to this town, like it, and stay.”
Mrs. Grayson joined her husband. Her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed at Kate. “And when are you going to choose one of these men here for your own?”
Heat rose in Kate’s cheeks. Everyone thought they had to ask that question. “I don’t plan on marrying anytime soon. I’m studying to be a nurse, and besides, who’d help Aunt Mae take care of the house and all the meals if I wasn’t around?”

The plump, rosy-cheeked Mrs. Grayson laughed. “She’d do fine without you, and I’ve seen how Mr. Fuller over at the bank looks at her. Wouldn’t surprise me if she takes a husband one of these days.”
“That’s hard for me to imagine.” The very idea of her aunt with another man after the love she shared with Uncle Patrick caused Kate’s insides to quiver like the branches of a justfelled tree. Aunt Mae did have a few of the men, including Mr. Fuller, looking her way, but she paid them no mind. If Aunt Mae did decide to marry, Kate wouldn’t interfere, but she’d have no part in bringing about that possibility.
As soon as Mr. Grayson dropped the envelopes into the outgoing mail bag, he headed outside and toward the depot. Mrs. Grayson handed her mail from the boardinghouse box. “Thank you.” Kate slid the envelopes into her pocket and wiggled her fingers at Mrs. Grayson. “Bye, now. It’s time to get things started for dinner at Aunt Mae’s.”
On her way back to the boardinghouse, the idea of Aunt Mae marrying danced through her head. Would Aunt Mae give up running the boardinghouse if she married? Kate knew how much her aunt loved visiting with the boarders and preparing their meals. It was impossible to think of her ever leaving the place. Certainly she had found her calling, and for once in this town it didn’t focus only on being a wife and keeping house! Still, when Uncle Patrick was alive, Aunt Mae had combined being a wife and managing all those boarders without much trouble. Perhaps Kate could do the same sometime in the far distant

future.
Daniel Monroe finished his letter and sealed it in an envelope. In a few days he’d leave for the greatest adventure of his life, and he wanted Seth to know when to expect him. He reread the post from his friend telling him that the mayor was more than willing for Daniel to come to Porterfield, Texas, and practice

law as they had no lawyers in the town. If lawyers were needed in Porterfield, then that’s where he’d head.

Seth Winston had gone to Texas last year to pastor the church where his cousin Sarah and her family were members. The idea of going to Porterfield had grown more appealing as Seth had described it when he’d returned to Briar Ridge for his sister Rachel’s wedding this past spring. True, Texas was a long way from Connecticut, but images of the untamed West and all the adventures Daniel could have outweighed the

distance.
He envisioned cowboys, gunfights, saloon brawls, and train robberies. The tales he’d heard about Texas rolled through his mind in an endless stream of pictures. All the action and excitement sounded much better than the quiet town of Briar Ridge where he spent most of his time writing wills and taking care of legal documents for land sales or contracts for service. He’d already reassigned all his clients to other lawyers in

Briar Ridge, and none had truly complained, which only served to emphasize the fact that he wasn’t really needed here. Daniel cleaned out his desk and put it all in a box to carry home. He planned to have the desk, a gift from his parents, shipped to Texas with him. Now all he had to do was purchase his train ticket and say good-bye to family and friends. Since his parents, especially his mother, didn’t approve the move, he didn’t expect a going-away party.

Father seemed on the verge of understanding Daniel’s desire to travel to new frontiers and make a life for himself. Mother, on the other hand, wouldn’t and couldn’t accept the fact that her only son wanted to leave home and move thousands of miles away. His sister, Abigail, would hardly speak to him, but that did not keep Daniel from making arrangements to leave. After his twenty-fifth birthday last month, the desire

for a change came over him, and Texas seemed the best place to do just that.
On the way home he stopped at the depot and purchased a ticket that would begin his trip. He’d have stops in Philadelphia, St. Louis, Oklahoma City, and Dallas before the last leg of the journey to Porterfield.
The ticket agent handed Daniel his passage. “That’s a mighty long trip. I take it you’re heading out West to join Seth Winston. I can see the need for a preacher out west, but what’s a fancy lawyer like yourself going to do there?”

Daniel laughed. His mother had asked the same question. “Not sure, but I hope to help tame some outlaws.” How he’d do that he had no idea, but it sounded good when he said it.

“Well, now, just don’t go and get yourself shot by one of ’em.”
“I don’t plan to, Mr. Colley.” He tipped his hat and walked back out to his rig. At least he knew how to ride a horse well. With all his many long trips to Hartford by horseback, he figured he’d have no trouble riding in Texas. The rig today was simply a convenience for carting home his personal belongings from his office. Tomorrow the desk would be crated and shipped westward.

He entered the foyer of the comfortable, two-story home he still shared with his family. At his age, many other men had places of their own, but Ellie’s cooking and the free lodging had tempted him to stay.
After handing over his hat to Stevens the butler, Daniel turned toward the voices he heard in the drawing room on his left. He knocked then pushed open the doors. “Good evening, Mother, Father.”

His mother stood and hurried to him. She wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Daniel, please tell me you’ve changed your mind and are staying in Briar Ridge. I can’t bear for you to leave us.”

He patted her back and glanced at his father, who simply lifted his gray bushy eyebrows and shrugged. He turned back to his mother. “I’m sorry you feel this way, Mother, but I purchased my train ticket on the way home this evening and will leave the beginning of next week.”
She pushed away from him and held a handkerchief to her nose. “I simply can’t believe it. I don’t understand why you have to go all the way to Texas to practice law. New Haven and Hartford are much closer. Why, even Boston would be better than way out West.”

“We have a multitude of fine barristers in the cities here in the East. As I’ve said many times, this will give me the opportunity to travel and see what is happening in the rest of our great country.” No matter how many times he explained, his mother would never truly understand his desire to move on. She had grown up in this town, as had his father, and she would never leave it or her beautiful home.
Stevens appeared in the doorway. “Mr. and Mrs. Monroe, dinner is served.”
Mother hooked her hand into Daniel’s arm. “Thank you, Stevens. Tell Ellie we’ll be right in.” She patted Daniel’s hand now resting on hers. Although she held her head high, he noted the slight tremor in her voice as she spoke. “I had Ellie prepare your favorite meal tonight. She’ll be serving all your favorites until your departure.” She swallowed hard as she walked beside Daniel into the dining room.
Daniel’s younger sister, Abigail, bounded down the stairs but stopped short when she saw her parents and Daniel. Her next steps were much more sedate. “Good evening, Daniel. I didn’t know you were home.”

Father waited to escort her into dinner. “And what is your great hurry, my dear girl? Is Ellie’s food that tempting?”

“No, Father, I’m just happy about my trip to see Rachel and Nathan in Hartford next week. I haven’t seen her since the wedding, and I’m anxious to visit and talk with her.”

Daniel assisted his mother in her chair at the table. “I’m sure you two will have much to talk about. What’s it been? Two, three months since the wedding?”
She turned to glare at him. A month ago she wouldn’t have minded the teasing, but since his decision to leave, she had been less than sisterly. “Three, if you must count, but it may as well be three years.” Abigail dismissed him and turned to her mother. “I truly miss having Rachel here in Briar Ridge.”

Father held her chair while she seated herself. He bent and brushed his lips across her hair. “Then I’m glad you will have this chance to visit Rachel in Hartford.”

After his father said grace, Ellie brought in a platter emanating the most delicious aroma. His favorite roast beef as Mother had promised. Along with it came perfectly creamed potatoes, buttered asparagus, carrots, fresh baked bread, and his favorite sweet pickles. “What, no soup tonight?”

Mother pressed her lips together. “You said you didn’t care for soup at every meal, and since this is your meal, we skipped it.”

“Thank you, I prefer to fill up on the main course and not the first one.” He glanced over at Abigail, who scrunched up her nose as the asparagus was passed to her. “Not to worry, dear sister, after I’m on my way to Texas, you won’t have to worry about asparagus. Ellie only cooks it because she knows how much I like it.”

“Humph, that will be one good aspect of your leaving.” She placed two stalks on her plate and handed the bowl to their father.

As his parents began discussing their day, he noted the total lack of reference to his leaving the coming Monday. His mother believed if she ignored it, that perhaps it wouldn’t really happen. Father cast a wistful eye Daniel’s way a few times, as though he wanted to talk with his son. Perhaps after dinner he and Father could have a conversation.
Daniel gazed around at the opulent surroundings. Sparkling crystal, fine china, silver cutlery, and damask table cloth and napkins reminded him of his parent’s wealth. He would find nothing like this in Texas.
Then he glanced again at his mother and swallowed a lump in his throat along with a bite of potato. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he could see in her face and the way she only moved the food around her plate without actually eating it that he had done just that.

How could he make her understand his desire to move away and seek a new life? Somehow between now and Monday he must convince her that God had called him to the frontier. He had spent many hours in prayer over this move, and now he gladly embraced the future and all it held in the grand state of Texas.

Thank you to Martha and Charisma House, through FIRST blog tours, for sending me a copy to read and review!

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Maggie's Journey by Lena Nelson Dooley

2011-10-07T00:01:00.000-04:00

Today's featured author from FIRST is Lena Nelson Dooley with her book Maggie’s Journey (published by Realms, October 4, 2011).

ABOUT THE BOOK:

A girl who’s been lied to her whole life…

On her eighteenth birthday, Margaret Lenora Caine finds a chest hidden in the attic containing proof that she was adopted. The daughter of wealthy merchants in Seattle, she feels betrayed both by her real parents and by the ones who raised her.

Maggie longs for a place where she belongs. But her mother’s constant criticism and reminders that she doesn’t fit the mold of a young woman of their social standing have already created tension in their home. With the discovery of the family secret, all sense of her identity is lost.

When Maggie asks to visit her grandmother in Arkansas, her father agrees on the condition that she take her Aunt Georgia as a chaperone and his young partner, Charles Stanton, as protection on the journey. Will she discover who she really is and, more importantly, what truly matters most in life?

MY THOUGHTS:

My review copy of Maggie's Journey did not arrive until this past Tuesday afternoon. I have only been able to read through a third of the book so far, but I will say that the beginning is very promising.

I am already wondering why Maggie's adopted mother is so critical and cold? Maggie was an unexpected gift she seemed overjoyed to receive! But, I sense the reason lies beneath a bit of mystery in the family's move from Oregon City? That's my hunch...I'll have to see if I'm right! I can also tell that Maggie's dreamboat appears interested in someone else...so, I'm anxious to see who he'll choose (ah, probably Maggie...but, maybe another dreamboat will come along)?

I also know now why the series is called 'McKenna's Daughters.'

*SPOILER* Maggie is a triplet whose mother died in childbirth!! So, if the rest of the book is as good as the beginning, I'll certainly want to know what happened to Maggie's sisters in the subsequent books...or maybe we find out about one or both of them at the end of this one! *SPOILER*

Oh, the suspense! ;-) Yes, the beginning of Maggie's Journey is certainly holding my interest, right from the first sentence of the prologue. As soon as I can finish the book and update my review, I will!

AND FOR YOU, a peek into the first chapter:

September 1885
Seattle, Washington Territory

Margaret Lenora Caine sat in the library of their mansion on Beacon Hill. Because of the view of Puget Sound, which she loved, she had the brocade draperies pulled back to let the early September sunshine bathe the room with warmth. Basking in the bright light, Maggie concentrated on the sketch pad balanced on her lap. After leaning back to get the full effect of the drawing, she reached a finger to smudge the shadows between the folds of the skirt. With a neckline that revealed the shoulders, but still maintained complete modesty, this dress was her best design so far, one she planned to have Mrs. Murdock create in that dreamy, shimmery green material that came in the last shipment from China. Maggie knew silk was usually a summer fabric, but with it woven into a heavier brocade satin, it would be just right for her eighteenth birthday party. And with a few changes to the design, she could have another dress created as well.

Once again she leaned forward and drew a furbelow around the hem, shading it carefully to show depth. The added weight of the extra fabric would help the skirt maintain its shape, providing a pleasing silhouette at any ball. She pictured herself wearing the beautiful green dress, whirling in the arms of her partner, whoever he was. Maybe someone like Charles Stanton, since she’d admired him for several years, and he was so handsome.
“Margaret, what are you doing?”

The harsh question broke Maggie’s concentration. The charcoal in her hand slipped, slashing an ugly smear across the sketch. She glanced at her mother standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her bosom. Maggie heaved a sigh loud enough to reach the entrance, and her mother’s eyebrows arched so quickly Maggie wanted to laugh . . . almost, but she didn’t dare add to whatever was bothering Mother now. Her stomach began to churn, a thoroughly uncomfortable sensation. Lately, everything she did put Mother in a bad mood. She searched her mind for whatever could have set her off this time. She came up with nothing, so she pasted a smile across her face.

“I’m sketching.” She tried for a firm tone but wasn’t sure it came across that way.

“You don’t have time for that right now.” Florence Caine hurried across the Persian wool carpet and stared down at her. “We have too much to do before your party.”

Of course her mother was right, but Maggie thought she could take a few minutes to get the new design on paper while it was fresh in her mind. She glanced toward the mantel clock. Oh, no. Her few minutes had turned into over two hours. She’d lost herself in drawing designs again. No wonder Mother was exasperated. She jumped up from the burgundy wing-back chair. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I’m sorry, Mother.” Florence Caine took the sketch pad from her hand and studied the drawing with a critical eye. “That’s a different design.”

Maggie couldn’t tell if she liked the dress or not, but it didn’t matter. Designing was in Maggie’s blood. Her grandmother was a dressmaker who came up with her own designs instead of using those in Godey’s Lady’s Book or Harper’s Bazar. And, according to Mother’s sister, she never even looked at a Butterick pattern. Aunt Georgia had told her often enough about all the society women who wouldn’t let anyone but Agatha Carter make their clothing. They knew they wouldn’t be meeting anyone else wearing the exact same thing when they attended social events in Little Rock, Arkansas. Not for the first time, Maggie wished she could talk to her grandmother at least once.

With the news about people being able to converse across long distances with something called the telephone, someday she might talk to her that way. But Maggie wanted a face-to-face meeting. Knowing another dress designer would keep her from feeling like such a misfit. Mother kept reminding her that she didn’t really fit the mold of a young woman of their social standing in Seattle. At least, Daddy let her do what she wanted to. She didn’t know what she’d do without him to offset Mother’s insistence, which was becoming more and more harsh.

According to Aunt Georgia, the business Grandmother Carter started was still going strong, even though her grandmother had to be over sixty years old. Maggie planned to go visit her relatives in Arkansas, so she could tour the company. She hoped her journey would happen before she was too late to actually meet Agatha Carter. Her deepest desire was to follow in her grandmother’s footsteps, since she had inherited her talents.

The sound of ripping tore through her thoughts. Aghast, she turned to catch her mother decimating her sketch. She lunged toward the paper, trying to save it, but Mother held the sketch just out of her reach.

“What are you doing?” Tears clogged her throat, but she struggled to hide them.

Dribbling the tiny pieces into the ornate wastepaper basket beside the mahogany desk, her mother looked up at her. “Just throwing it away. You had already ruined it anyway.”

Anger sliced through Maggie’s heart, leaving a jagged trail of pain. She still wanted to keep the sketch. She could use it while she created another. Her plan was to ask her father to help her surprise Mother. The design would set off her mother’s tall stature and still youthful figure. She planned to ask him for a length of the special blue satin brocade that would bring out the color of Mother’s eyes. The dress would make Mother the envy of most of her friends when the winter social season started in a couple of months. Now she’d have to begin the drawing all over again. So many hours of work and her dreams torn to shreds.

“Darling.” That syrupy tone Mother used when she was trying to make a point grated on Maggie’s nerves. “When are you going to grow up and forget about your little pictures of dresses?” Little pictures of dresses? The words almost shredded the rest of Maggie’s control. She gripped her hands into fists and twisted them inside the folds of her full skirt.

They’d had this discussion too many times already. She gritted her teeth, but it didn’t help. In a few days she would be eighteen, old enough to make decisions for herself—whether her mother agreed or not.

She stood as tall as her tiny frame would allow her. “Those aren’t just ‘little drawings,’ Mother. I am going to be a dress designer.” The icy disdain shooting from her mother’s eyes made Maggie cringe inside, but she stood her ground.

“Margaret Lenora Caine, I am tired of these conversations. You will not become a working girl.” Mother huffed out a very unladylike deep breath. “You don’t need to. Your father has worked hard to provide a very good living for the three of us. I will not listen to any more of this nonsense.”

Maggie had heard that phrase often enough, and she never liked it. Mother swept from the room as if she had the answer to everything, but she didn’t. Not for Maggie. And her sketches were not nonsense.

She tried to remember the last time she pleased her mother. Had she ever really?

Her hair was too curly and hard to tame into a proper style. And the hue was too red. Maggie wouldn’t stay out of the sun to prevent freckles from dotting her face. She could come up with a long list of her mother’s complaints if she wanted to take the time. She wasn’t that interested in what was going on among the elite in Seattle. She had more things to think about than how to catch a husband. Maggie wanted to get married someday. But first she would follow her dream. Become the woman she was created to be. That meant being a dress designer, taking delight in making other women look their best. If it wasn’t for Grandmother Carter, Maggie would think she had been born into the wrong family.

The enticing aroma of gingerbread called her toward the kitchen. Spending time with Mrs. Jorgensen was just what she needed right now. Since she didn’t have any grandparents living close by, their cook and housekeeper substituted quite well in Maggie’s mind. She pushed open the door, wrinkling her nose and sniffing like the bunny in the back garden while she headed across the brick floor toward the cabinet where her older friend worked. “What is that heavenly smell?”

Mrs. Jorgensen turned with a warm smile. “As if you didn’t already know. You’ve eaten enough of my gingerbread, for sure.”

Pushing white tendrils from her forehead, the woman quickly sliced the spicy concoction and placed a large piece on a saucer while Maggie retrieved the butter from the ice box. Maggie slathered a thick coating on and watched it melt into the hot, brown bread. “Here’s something to drink.” Mrs. Jorgensen set a glass of cold milk on the work table in the middle of the large room.

Maggie hopped up on a tall stool and took a sip, swinging her legs as she had when she was a little girl. Mother would have something else to complain about if she saw her. That’s not ladylike and is most unbecoming. The oft-spoken words rang through Maggie’s mind. But Mother hardly ever came into the kitchen. Mrs. Jorgensen met with Mother in her sitting room to plan the meals and the day’s work schedule.

“This is the only place in the house where I can just be myself.” Maggie took a bite and let the spices dance along her tongue, savoring the sting of spices mixed with the sweetness of molasses.

“Ja.” The grandmotherly woman patted Maggie’s shoulder. “So tell me what’s bothering you, kära.”
Tears sprang to Maggie’s eyes. “Why doesn’t Mother understand me? She doesn’t even try.”

She licked a drip of butter that started down her finger, then took another bite of the warm gingerbread. Heat from the cook stove made the enormous kitchen feel warm and cozy, instead of the cold formality of most of the house. Mrs. Jorgensen folded a tea towel into a thick square, then went to the oven and removed another pan of the dessert. “What’s the bee in her bonnet this time?”

Maggie loved to hear the Scandinavian woman’s quaint sayings. “She won’t consider letting me continue to design dresses.”

Maggie sipped her milk, not even being careful not to leave a white mustache on her upper lip. “I’ve drawn them for our seamstress to use for the last five years. As many of them have been for Mother as for me. And she’s enjoyed the way other women exclaimed over the exclusive creations she wore. I don’t understand why she doesn’t want me to continue to develop my artistic abilities.”

“Your father is a very wealthy man, for sure.” The cook’s nod punctuated her statement. “Your dear mother just wants what is best for you.”

“Why does she get to decide what’s best for me?” Maggie felt like stomping her foot, but she refrained. That would be like a child having a tantrum. She would not stoop that far now that she was no longer a child. “Soon I’ll be eighteen. Plenty old enough to make my own decisions.”

“Yah, and you sure have the temper to match all that glorious red hair, älskling.” She clicked her tongue. “Such a waste of energy.” After enjoying the love expressed in Mrs. Jorgensen’s endearment, Maggie slid from the stool and gathered her plate and glass to carry them to the sink. “You’re probably right. I’ll just have to talk to Daddy.”

The door to the hallway swung open. “Talk to me about what?” Her tall father strode into the room, filling it with a sense of power.

“About my becoming a dress designer.”

A flit of pain crossed his face before he smiled. “A dress designer?” Maggie fisted her hands on her waist. “We’ve discussed this before. I want to go to Arkansas and see about learning more at The House of Agatha Carter.”

Her father came over and gathered her into a loving embrace. “I said I’d think about letting you go. There are many details that would have to be ironed out first. But I didn’t say you couldn’t go.”

Maggie leaned her cheek against his chest, breathing in his familiar spicy scent laced with the fragrance of pipe tobacco. “I know. But Mother won’t let me. Just you wait and see.”

He grasped her by the shoulders and held her away from him. “Maggie, my Maggie, you’ve always been so impatient. I said I’d talk to her when the time is right. You’ll just have to trust me on this.” His eyes bored into hers, and his lips tipped up at the ends. She threw her arms around his waist. “Oh, I do trust you, Daddy.”

“Then be patient.” He kissed the top of her head, probably disturbing the style she’d worked so hard on this morning.

Mrs. Jorgensen stopped slicing the gingerbread and held the knife in front of her. “I thought you weren’t going to be home for lunch, Mr. Caine.”

“I’m not. I’ve only come by to pick up my beautiful wife. We’ll be dining with some friends at the Arlington House hotel downtown.” He gave Maggie another hug and left, presumably to find her mother.

“Would you be wanting another piece of gingerbread, kära?”

Maggie shook her head. “I don’t want to ruin my lunch. I have some things I need to do. Can I come back to eat a little later?” She hoped her father could prevail against Mother’s stubborn stance on the question of a trip to Arkansas.

Mrs. Jorgensen waved her out the door. “You’re probably not very hungry after that gingerbread.”
Maggie went into the library to retrieve her sketch pad, then headed upstairs to her bedroom. She wanted to get the drawing on paper again before she forgot any of the details. She pulled her lacy panels back from the side window and scooted a chair close. With a few deft strokes, she had the main lines of the dress on the thick paper. Then she started filling it in. As each line appeared on the drawing, she felt an echoing movement in her spirit. Deep inside, she danced through the design as it took shape, much faster than the first time. She was so glad she could recall every detail.

While she drew, her thoughts returned to Grandmother Carter. Everyone said she took after her grandmother . . . everyone except Mother. Why isn’t she happy about my talent?

Maggie wandered through her memories, trying to recapture how it was when she was a little girl. She remembered Mother playing with her when they lived in the smaller, but comfortable house in Oregon City. They didn’t have servants then, but the three of them laughed and enjoyed life together. Then for some reason, her mother had started talking to her father every chance she got about moving to a larger place. Now that Maggie looked back on those memories, she realized that her mother seemed almost frantic to get away from where they lived, as if something were wrong with the town. Maggie never understood why.

She couldn’t have been more than five years old, but some of the events stood out. The hurry to leave town. The long trip. For quite a while after that, she missed playing with her friends. And she didn’t make new ones when they arrived. No other small children lived in the neighborhood. Even when she started school, she stayed to herself. She had been shy as a young girl.

After they moved to Seattle and her father bought one of the empty buildings and opened Caine Emporium, Mother changed. She became more distant, almost cold. She was no longer the laughing woman. If Maggie didn’t know better, she’d think something made Mother bitter. Maybe that was one reason she wanted to design this special dress. To brighten her mother’s life. Bring back the woman who sometimes flashed through her memory at odd times, making her long for the warmth she had luxuriated in as a small child. Finally, the drawing met her approval. Just in time to eat lunch. Maybe this afternoon she could finish the other sketch with the changes to make the dress more appropriate for her mother than herself.

Once again the kitchen welcomed her, and she enjoyed eating there with Mrs. Jorgensen. If Mother had been home, they would have had the meal in the formal dining room, complete with china, crystal, and silver. Such a fuss for an ordinary day.

“Margaret.” Her mother’s voice rose from the foyer below. “I’m home.”

Looking at the names of people she’d placed on the invitation list, Maggie finished writing Charles Stanton’s name and put the pen down. “Coming, Mother.”

She rushed out of her room and stood at the top of the staircase. “Did you want me?”

“Yes, dear. I thought we could get some shopping done this afternoon.” Her mother still wore her gloves and cape.

“Is it cold?”

Mother nodded. “It’s a bit nippy, so wear something warm.” “I’ll get my things.” Maggie hurried back to her room and gathered a light jacket, a handbag, and her gloves. When she arrived in the foyer, Mother stood tapping her foot impatiently. “I had hoped we could buy most of the things we’ll need today.”
Maggie bit her tongue to keep from reminding her that she wasn’t the one who had frittered away so much of the day. If Mother wanted to go shopping, why didn’t they do it earlier? She could have gone along for the lunch with Daddy. But evidently Mother preferred spending time with Daddy instead of her. She took a deep breath and followed her mother to the coach sitting in front of the house. Mrs. Jorgensen’s son, who was their driver, stood beside the open door, ready to assist them into the conveyance.

“Erik, please take us by the Emporium.” Mother took hold of his hand as she stepped up into the vehicle.

Maggie followed suit. “Why are we going to the store? Are we going to shop there?”

The door snapped shut, and Erik climbed into the driver’s seat. “I forgot to get money from your father when we were at lunch.” Mother settled her skirts as the coach lurched forward. “I believe your father is signing papers with young Charles Stanton this afternoon. It will be nice to see him again. Did you add him to your guest list?”

Maggie nodded, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She hadn’t seen Charles since she was about sixteen, but she still remembered the girlish secret infatuation she’d had when she was younger. He’d been so handsome, and kind too. Would he be changed since he’d graduated from university? She would soon find out. She settled back into the carriage seat, suddenly looking forward to the afternoon’s events.

Thank you to Lena and Charisma House, through FIRST, for sending me a copy to read and review!

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Tips to keep your family Cold and Flu- Free!

2011-10-05T15:46:00.000-04:00

Photo Credit: stock.xchng user evah

Unfortunately, cold and flu season is quickly approaching. I’ve already begun wiping little drippy noses in our house.

So, how can you prevent the sickness from invading your house? Well, it’s not easy, especially with little ones! We have a large church family, full of children, and it seems that as soon as ONE child has the sniffles or the much worse yucky-bucket-sickness (how was that for discreet?! Ha!), the entire population of kids in the church brings it home!

This can make for a long winter!

But, there are some important, common sense things that you can do to help cut down your family’s risk of becoming ill. Here are some tips for helping to keep your family cold and flu free!

#1: WASH YOUR HANDS!

I purposely wrote that in caps!! Don’t underestimate the value of good ol’ soap and water! Again, it’s very difficult with little children, but whenever our family has been out and about – whether the grocery store, church, or McD’s – our kids are immediately told to head straight to the bathroom upon arriving back home. A good scrubbing can kill those nasty germs before they attack!

#2: Eat Healthy!

Eating the right kinds of foods can do more for your immune system than you realize! Strengthen your body before the bad stuff hits with yogurt, orange juice, and other beneficial foods! Coconut oil is super against germs!

#3: Lysol Sanitizing Spray

This product is invaluable when trying to disinfect surfaces that are constantly used…and often forgotten about, such as doorknobs, the toilet handle, piano keys, tv remotes, etc! Especially during the bucket-sickness chaos, my Lysol spray makes me feel like I’m doing something to help. Any mom out there knows how that kind of sickness takes ALL of your time and energy, and you never have time to deep clean between each unfortunate episode…especially in the middle of the night.

#4: Hand Sanitizer

I don’t use this all that often, but I have bottles in several important places for when a sink and running water is not available: my purse, the car, and under the bathroom sink (when the power goes out)!

#5: Declutter the house!

This may not seem to have anything to do with colds and flu, but when your house is a mess, it’s hard to effectively clean. Surfaces are hidden with stuff…which are hiding germs and who knows what else! Get your kids to help with some fall cleaning and get the house in order before flu season arrives!

BONUS #6: WASH YOUR HANDS!

Did I say that already?!! Seriously, the best thing you can do to prevent illness in your family is to hound everyone to keep their hands clean – and away from their eyes and nose! Make a game of hand washing! Have each child scrub for as long as it takes them to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ two times through, or ‘Jingle Bells,’ so that the soap can do its job!

Those are some of the ways I try to keep my family healthy during cold and flu season. How about you?

**Disclaimer: I wrote this blog post while participating in the SocialMoms and Lysol blogging program, for a gift card worth $40. For more information on how you can participate, click here. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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Heiress by Susan May Warren

2011-09-30T00:01:00.000-04:00

ABOUT HEIRESS by SUSAN MAY WARREN:

They can buy anything they want—fame, power, beauty, even loyalty.

But they can’t buy love.

The beautiful and wealthy heiress daughters of August Price can buy everything their hearts desire. But what if their desire is to be loved, without an enormous price tag attached? When one sister betrays another for the sake of love, will she find happiness? And what happens when the other sets out across the still untamed frontier to find it—will she discover she’s left it behind in the glamorous world of the New York gilded society? What price will each woman pay for being an heiress?

Set in the opulent world of the Gilded Age, two women discover that being an heiress just might cost them everything they love.

MY THOUGHTS:

I am not sure why Heiress is marketed as Christian fiction. Perhaps Heiress earned the label ‘Christian,’ because desperate prayers are whispered heavenward and church attendance is socially required.

But after reading only one-third of the book, I wondered why I continued turning the pages. The story is full of lust, lies, adultery, anger, disrespect, and abuse, and I was very disappointed – perhaps disgusted would be closer to the truth. I flipped nearer to the end of the book to see if things got any better. I am sad to say that the ungodly topics were still rampant.

If the story *does* conclude in a godly manner, I was not willing to wade through the filth to find out.

I know Susan May Warren has written many books (of which I have not read), but if Heiress is indicative of her style and subject matter, I do not want to pick up another. Unfortunately, Heiress will not be remaining on my shelf, and I do not recommend it at all.

That's what I thought. Click HERE to see what other reviewers are saying about Heiress.

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If you are interested, Susan is hosting a Gilded Age Giveaway and you can enter by clicking the icon below:

Thank you to Litfuse for sending me a copy to read and review!

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September 24: Worldwide Day of Play!

2011-09-22T11:15:00.000-04:00

I have two precious children. One of them is a boy.

A real boy.

If I let him, he would be outside…all day. Every day.

He loves playing outside. He loves shovels and dirt and water.

Yeah, you know where that’s going, eh?

A. very. dirty. boy.

A very HAPPY dirty boy!

I must admit that I prefer to curl up on the couch with a good book, but I know the importance of having my kids be out and about in the fresh air as much as possible.

photo credit: stock.xchng

My husband is an outdoorsman, and we are blessed to have several acres of land for our children to roam about and explore.

When we moved to this house a few years ago, we decided not to hook up cable or satellite tv, although the kids do enjoy dvds. So, we never have to choose ‘missing’ a favorite tv show over enjoying the great outdoors.

September 24 is Worldwide Day of Play, where families are encouraged to TURN OFF THE TUBE and get outside together! Nothing compares with fresh air and sunshine!

Clorox2 is a proud sponsor of the Worldwide Day of Play and wants you to take the Play 2Day Pledge: http://clorox2play2day.com

photo credit: stock.xchng

With our wooded property, the kids enjoy taking hikes on the trails with daddy. We also enjoy playing catch or pushing them on their swings. Really, we don’t even have to have an organized game of anything – the kids just love to be let loose to run free! My daughter loves to chase butterflies with her butterfly net or pick dandelions! And my son likes to dig holes or toss hickory nuts over our bank.

For ‘organized’ play, though, I must say that my daughter believes daddy draws the best hopscotch squares ever!

I notice a big difference on the days my kids stay inside versus a whole day of outside play. Too much tv often results in cranky, whiny, tired kids. When they come back inside after a long day of running, swinging, laughing, skipping, they’re tired, too. But, it’s a good tired! They’re pooped! (And they sleep better, too!) :-)

So, will you turn off that big black box on September 24 and take some time as a family to play together? Toss a ball (if you’re not athletic, don’t worry! If your kids are young enough, they’ll retrieve the ball for you – and enjoy it! They will likely only remember that you PLAYED WITH THEM!)

Hey, if the weather doesn’t cooperate, play a board game together! Choose another day to play outside! Just make a point to spend some quality time with your kids somewhere other than in front of the tv!

**Disclaimer: I wrote this blog post while participating in the SocialMoms and Clorox2® blogging program, for a gift card worth $40. For more information on how you can participate, click here. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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Wings of a Dream by Anne Mateer

2011-09-14T11:00:00.000-04:00

This week, CFBA is introducing Wings of a Dream by Anne Mateer.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Rebekah Hendricks dreams of a life far beyond her family's farm in Oklahoma, and when dashing aviator Arthur Samson promised adventure in the big city, she is quick to believe he's the man she's meant to marry. While she waits for the Great War to end and Arthur to return to her so they can pursue all their plans, her mother's sister falls ill. Rebekah seizes the opportunity to travel to Texas to care for Aunt Adabelle, seeing this chance to be closer to Arthur's training camp as God's approval of her plans.

But the Spanish flue epidemic changes everything. Faced with her aunt's death, Arthur's indecisiveness, and four children who have no one else to care for them, Rebekah is torn between the desire to escape the type of life she's always led and the unexpected love that just might change the dream of her heart.

MY THOUGHTS:

Rebekah was so likable, just an ordinary girl, wishing for an extraordinary life...and always being disappointed or hindered in her plans. So many of the characters seem to endure so much suffering, yet each are able to find joy despite their circumstances. The story flowed smoothly and even brought me to tears - goodbyes always do that to me!

Set amid the often forgotten Spanish influenza outbreak, Wings of a Dream was a sweet story of dreaming for something else in life, but realizing all you've ever truly wanted is right in front of your nose. I absolutely loved this beautiful and charming debut novel by Anne Mateer!

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AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:

Wings of a Dream

Thank you to Anne and Bethany House, through CFBA, for sending me a copy to read and review!

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Doughnut (Hole) Muffins

2011-09-07T14:15:00.000-04:00

My husband and I have made the decision to start eating a bit more healthy. Are you laughing that I'm writing this at the beginning of a post called 'Doughnut (Hole) Muffins?!'

Just wait!

We are trying to make healthier choices. We're trying to keep white flour (including white pasta and rice) and white sugar to a bare minimum and gradually replacing the processed foods in our pantry.

Using whole wheat flour has been pretty easy so far, but refined white sugar is pretty hard to give up. My cousin has been super helpful in recommending recipes with substitutions like honey or maple syrup. I am enjoying this new stage of experimentation and hope to share some successful turned-out-yummy recipes with you!

This DEEELICIOUS recipe (from the King Arthur Flour website and using a few modifications from my cousin) *does* use brown and white sugar -- BUT, if you're craving a donut (especially now that fall and cider season is here!!), these little whole wheat gems will greatly satisfy your sweet tooth without leaving you feeling horribly guilty!

DOUGHNUT (HOLE) MUFFINS

Batter
1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup vegetable oil (I use coconut oil or you could use light olive oil)
1/2 cup granulated sugar (I've been using demerara - unrefined sugar, similar to turbinado)
1/3 cup brown sugar (my cousin omits this altogether - I certainly think they'd be sweet enough without it!)
2 large eggs
1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 to 1-1/4 teaspoons ground nutmeg, to taste
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 2/3 cups King Arthur Unbleached All-Purpose Flour (I use whole wheat pastry flour)
1 cup milk

Topping
3 tablespoons melted butter
3 tablespoons Cinnamon-Sugar Plus or cinnamon sugar

Preheat the oven to 425°F. Lightly grease a mini muffin tin.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter, vegetable (coconut) oil, and sugars until smooth. Add the eggs, beating to combine. Stir in the baking powder, baking soda, nutmeg, salt, and vanilla.

Stir the flour into the butter mixture alternately with the milk, beginning and ending with the flour and making sure everything is thoroughly combined. Spoon the batter evenly into the prepared pan (I used my cookie scoop), filling the cups nearly full.

Bake the muffins for 7-8 minutes, or until they're a pale golden brown and a toothpick inserted into the middle of one of the center muffins comes out clean. Remove them from oven, and let cool for a couple of minutes, or until you can handle them. While they're cooling, melt the butter for the topping (this is easily done in the microwave).

Dip the tops of muffins into the melted butter, then roll in the cinnamon-sugar. Serve warm, or cool on a rack and wrap airtight. Store for a day or so at room temperature.

Yum YUM YUMMMY!

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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Attention Keurig fans! Introducing Ekobrew!

2011-09-07T13:22:00.000-04:00

I purchased a Keurig for my husband several years ago. He has told me again and again that it's his favorite present that he didn't even know he wanted! ;-)

Even though he is the only coffee drinker in the house, those K-cups can become expensive.

You've noticed, eh?

Like probably every other Keurig owner, in an attempt to save money, we've tried all of the other make-your-own k-cup reusable filter devices.

We've always been a bit disappointed. Until now.

Introducing the newest reusable filter on the block: EKOBREW.

I was graciously sent the Ekobrew filter to review. I was immediately impressed with the simple, yet sturdy packaging. This fits Ekobrew's goal to reduce environmental waste:

Eko Brands, LLC is a Seattle based company determined to be ecologically responsible in the single-serve coffee segment. Because of this conviction, the Ekobrew, a reusable filter for use with Keurig single cup coffee brewing devices, was born.

Then there's the filter itself. Not only does it look nicer than the other options out there, but it is simpler in (outward) design than the competitors, making it very user friendly!

The lid is attached - nothing to lose or hunt through drawers to find or pry off with a special tool. It also fits right into your Keurig as a regular ol' k-cup with no other extra, frustrating steps (such as removing the entire housing for Keurig's own My K-Cup).

Our favorite part of the Ekobrew? The fill line! Even though you still need to find the right sized grounds and amount of coffee that will produce a result you like, the fill line took a lot of the guess work out of our initial tests. Past filters were always over- or underfilled and harder for us to get consistent results.

You can see all of Ekobrew's great features HERE as well as TIPS for brewing with your Ekobrew.

A top reason you likely love your Keurig is not having to deal with the measuring and disposing of messy coffee grounds. BUT...if you're wanting to save money, reduce waste, or use your favorite coffee that hasn't found its way into a k-cup: I recommend the Ekobrew.

In this we-love-our-Keurig household, the Ekobrew is the best reusable filter in overall design and use, hands down (and we think it would make a great Christmas gift to your Keurig friends)! ;-)

Thank you to Ron from Ekobrew for sending me a filter to review!

Also reviewed on Amazon.

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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A Whisper of Peace by Kim Vogel Sawyer

2011-09-06T18:00:00.000-04:00

Today, CFBA is introducing A Whisper of Peace by Kim Vogel Sawyer.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Ostracized by her tribe because of her white father, Lizzie Dawson lives alone in the mountains of Alaska, practicing the ways of her people even as she resides in the small cabin her father built for her mother. She dreams of reconciling with her grandparents to fulfill her mother's dying request, but she has not yet found a way to bridge the gap that separate her from her tribe.

Clay Selby has always wanted to be like his father, a missionary who holds a great love for the native people and has brought many to God. Clay and his stepsister, Vivian, arrive in Alaska to set up a church and school among the Athbascan people. Clay is totally focused on this goal...until he meets a young, independent Indian woman with the most striking blue eyes he's ever seen.

But Lizzie is clearly not part of the tribe, and befriending her might have dire consequences for his mission. Will Clay be forced to choose between his desire to minister to the natives and the quiet nudging of his heart?

MY THOUGHTS:

If you're a regular reader of my book reviews, you'll know Kim has quickly become one of my favorite authors. I really enjoy Kim's style of writing. Each book of Kim's that I open feels like I'm settling down with a good friend to visit. From the very first pages, characters always seem warm and familiar, although we've never been introduced.

A Whisper of Peace was an easy, comfortable read. Lizzie comes across the pages exactly as she is described: beautiful and graceful, yet somber and capable. She was definitely someone I would want to meet in person. Clay and Vivian seemed out of place -- but then, I'm sure most white missionaries are out of place in other cultures. Clay's busyness not only put a barrier between him and the Indians, but I also wasn't sure if I liked him or not. Clay's letter from his father said almost the exact same thing I had been thinking up to that point! Well, I guess we all have the same problem (read the book!)...

A Whisper of Peace did not disappoint... although I must say I would have liked to hear more of Vivian's reconciliation and romance.

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AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:

A Whisper of Peace

A special thank you to Kim and Bethany House through CFBA for sending me a copy to read and review!

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Blue Skies Tomorrow by Sarah Sundin and {GIVEAWAY}!

2011-09-02T21:00:00.000-04:00

ABOUT THE BOOK:
Lt. Raymond Novak prefers the pulpit to the cockpit, but at least his stateside job training B-17 pilots allows him the luxury of a personal life. As he courts Helen Carlisle, a young war widow and mother who conceals her pain under a frenzy of volunteer work, the sparks of their romance set a fire that flings them both into peril.

After Ray leaves to fly a combat mission at the peak of the air war over Europe, Helen takes a job in a dangerous munitions yard and confronts an even graver menace in her own home. Will they find the courage to face their challenges? And can their young love survive until blue skies return?

MY THOUGHTS:

Blue Skies Tomorrow is the third book in Sarah Sundin’s Wings of Glory series, and I must say, she saved the BEST for last!

I initially wanted to read Sarah’s books because of the WWII setting – that’s one of my favorite eras. After reading book one, I realized it was more of a homefront setting, which was unusual for me, but not unlikeable. However, I much prefer the intrigue of the European arena, although I loved Walt and Allie. Same with Jack and Ruth’s story in book two. Enjoyed it…

But Blue Skies Tomorrow topped them both in my opinion – hometown romance, past scars, present grief, and my favorite: a bit of intrigue in Europe.

The characters in this story about the third Novak brother were real, the plot believable (well…I could imagine a bit of crazy Hogan’s Heroes in part of it – I’d love to know where the inspiration for that came. Just your imagination, Sarah…or any bits of a true story??) Anyway, I empathized with Ray. I agonized with Helen. I was disgusted by Vic. I was astonished by the events surrounding Esther and Carver. I felt sorry for Mrs. Carlisle and even little Jay-Jay. The list goes on!

I can’t spoil the story for you – but Ray’s decision to pilot a plane during combat brings about circumstances that kept me turning the pages, quite unsure of a happy ending. I especially loved the ‘ending’ of the story of the ink stain on the piano… You’ll have to read it! And poor Ray’s outburst in church… oh! I can’t tell you! How embarrassing. Made me giggle.

Truly, Blue Skies Tomorrow was great. Although each book in the Wings of Glory series has a few overlapping characters, you don’t need to read them in sequence. I think you can easily understand and enjoy Blue Skies without having read the first two.

Still More Stories and Treasures from Grandma's Attic by Arleta Richardson

2011-08-24T00:01:00.001-04:00

Today's featured author from FIRST is:

Arleta Richardson

and the books:

Still More Stories from Grandma’s Attic
and
Treasures from Grandma’s Attic

David C. Cook; Reprint edition (August 1, 2011)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

The late Arleta Richardson grew up an only child in Chicago, living in a hotel on the shores of Lake Michigan. Under the care of her maternal grandmother, she listened for hours to stories from her grandmother’s childhood. With unusual recall, Arleta began to write these stories for an audience that now numbers over two million. “My grandmother would be amazed to know her stories have gone around the world,” Arleta said.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Grandma did what? You might be surprised. Back in the 1880’s, when she was a young girl named Mabel, trouble seemed to follow her everywhere. She and her best friend, Sarah Jane, had the best intentions at home and at school, but somehow clumsiness and mischief always seemed to intrude. Whether getting into a sticky mess with face cream, traveling to the big city, sneaking out to a birthday party or studying for the spelling bee, Mabel’s brilliant ideas only seemed to show how much she had to learn. And each of her mishaps turned into lessons in honesty, patience and responsibility.

Arleta Richardson’s beloved series, Grandma’s Attic, returns with Still More Stories from Grandma’s Attic and Treasures from Grandma’s Attic, the third and fourth books in the refreshed classic collection for girls ages 8 to 12. These compilations of tales recount humorous and poignant memories from Grandma Mabel’s childhood on a Michigan farm in the late 1800’s. Combining the warmth and spirit of Little House on the Prairie with a Christian focus, these books transport readers back to a simpler time to learn lessons surprisingly relevant in today’s world.

Even though these stories took place over a hundred years ago, there are some things about being a girl that never change. Just like Mabel, girls still want to be prettier or more independent. It’s all part of growing up. But the amazing thing is—Grandma felt the same way! Sometimes your brother teases you or someone you thought was a friend turns out to be insincere. Sometimes you’re certain you know better than your parents, only to discover to your horror that they might have been right. It’s all part of growing up.

Richardson’s wholesome stories have reached more than two million readers worldwide. Parents appreciate the godly values and character they promote while children love the captivating storytelling that recounts childhood memories of mischief and joy. These books are ideal for homes, schools, libraries or gifts and are certain to be treasured. So return to Grandma’s attic, where true tales of yesteryear bring timeless lessons for today, combining the appeal of historical fiction for girls with the truth of God’s Word. Each captivating story promotes godly character and values with humor, understanding and warmth.

MY THOUGHTS:

I reviewed the first two Grandma's Attic books HERE. I loved them...and I love these two, too! The continuing stories of 'Grandma' as a girl are simply delightful!

The stories are written for ages 9-12 and are full of yesteryear's charm (think Little House). Each story is a quick read for young readers woven with both Biblical truths and everyday examples.

Perfect also as a read-aloud for younger children! The Grandma's Attic series is on my list for our read-alouds during homeschooling! If you haven't yet obtained copies of these gems, I highly recommend that you do!!

Don't forget to connect with A Cooking Bookworm!

Product Details:

List Price: $6.99
Reading level: Ages 9-12
Paperback: 160 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook; Reprint edition (August 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0781403812
ISBN-13: 978-0781403818

Treasures from Grandma’s Attic:

Reading level: Ages 9-12
Paperback: 160 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook; Reprint edition (August 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0781403820
ISBN-13: 978-0781403825

AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:

Still More Stories from Grandma’s Attic

When Grandma Was a Little Girl

One hundred years! What a long, long time ago that is! Not very many people are still alive who can remember that far back. But through the magic of stories, we can be right there again.

When I was a little girl, I thought no one could tell a story like my grandma.

“Tell me about when you were a little girl,” I would say. Soon I would be back on the farm in northern Michigan with young Mabel—who became my grandmother—her mother and father, and her brothers, Reuben and Roy.

The old kitchen where I sat to hear many of Grandma’s stories didn’t look the same as when she was a little girl. Then there was no electricity nor running water. But my grandma still lived in the house she grew up in. I had no trouble imagining all the funny jams that Grandma and her best friend, Sarah Jane, got into. Or how it felt to wear long flannel stockings and high-buttoned shoes.

From the dusty old attic to the front parlor with its slippery furniture, Grandma’s old house was a storybook just waiting to be opened. I was fortunate to have a grandma who knew just how to open it. She loved to tell a story just as much as I loved to hear one.

Come with me now, back to the old kitchen in that Michigan farmhouse, and enjoy the laughter and tears of many years ago....

1

Face Cream from Godey’s Lady’s Book

Receiving mail always excited me. I never had to be told to get the mail for Grandma on my way home from school. But sometimes the mail became even more important. Like the time I was watching for something I had ordered from Woman’s Home Companion.

When the small package finally arrived, my face revealed how excited I was.

“What did you get a sample of this time?” Grandma asked as I came in proudly carrying the precious box.

“You’ll see. Just wait till I show you,” I said, promising Grandma the box held something special.

Quickly I tore the wrapping paper off the small box. Inside was a jar of skin cream for wrinkles.

Grandma laughed when she saw it. “You certainly don’t need that,” she said. “Now it might do me some good if those things ever really worked.”

“You aren’t wrinkled, Grandma,” I protested. “Your face is nice and smooth.”

“Perhaps so. But not because of what I’ve rubbed on it. More than likely I’ve inherited a smooth skin.”

She took the jar of cream and looked at the ingredients “This doesn’t look quite as dangerous as some stuff Sarah Jane and I mixed up one day. Did I ever tell you about that?”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t,” I replied. “Tell me now.”

Grandma picked up her crocheting, and I settled back to listen to a story about Grandma and her friend, Sarah Jane, when they were my age.

***

Sarah Jane had a cousin who lived in the city. This cousin often came to stay at Sarah Jane’s for a few days. She brought things with her that we were not accustomed to seeing.

One morning as Sarah Jane and I were walking to school together, Sarah Jane told me some very exciting news. “My cousin Laura will be here tomorrow. She’s going to stay all next week. Won’t that be fun?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I’m glad she’s coming. What do you think she’ll bring this time?”

“Probably some pretty new dresses and hats,” Sarah Jane guessed. “She might even let us try them on.”

“Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t want us to try on her dresses. But maybe she wouldn’t mind if we peeked at ourselves in the mirror to see how the hats looked.”

Laura arrived the next day with several new hats. She amiably agreed that we might try them on.

They were too big, and had a tendency to slide down over our noses. But to us, they were the latest fashion.

As we laid the hats back on the bed, Sarah Jane spied something else that interested her. It was a magazine for ladies. We had not seen more than half a dozen magazines in our lives, so this was exciting.

“Oh, Laura,” Sarah Jane cried, “may we look at your magazine? We’ll be very careful.”

“Why, yes. I’m not going to be reading it right away. Go ahead.”

Eagerly we snatched the magazine and ran out to the porch. The cover pictured a lady with a very fashionable dress and hat, carrying a frilly parasol. The name of the magazine was Godey’s Lady’s Book.

“Ooh! Look at the ruffles on her dress!” Sarah Jane exclaimed. “Wouldn’t you just love to have one dress with all those ribbons and things?”

“Yes, but there’s little chance I’ll ever have it,” I replied. “Ma wouldn’t iron that many ruffles for anything. Besides, we’re not grown up enough to have dresses like that. It looks like it might be organdy, doesn’t it?”

“Mmm-hum,” Sarah Jane agreed. “It looks like something soft, all right. And look at her hair. It must be long to make that big a roll around her head.”

We spread the magazine across our laps and studied each page carefully. Nothing escaped our notice. “I sure wish we were grown up,” Sarah Jane sighed. “Think how much prettier we’d be.”

“Yes, and how much more fun we could have. These ladies don’t spend all their time going to school and doing chores. They just get all dressed up and sit around looking pretty.”

We looked for a moment in silence; then Sarah Jane noticed something interesting. “Look here, Mabel. Here’s something you can make to get rid of wrinkles on your face.”

I looked where she was reading.

Guaranteed to remove wrinkles. Melt together a quantity of white wax and honey. When it becomes liquid, add the juice of several lemons. Spread the mixture liberally on your face and allow it to dry. In addition to smoothing out your wrinkles, this formula will leave your skin soft, smooth, and freckle free.

“But we don’t have any wrinkles,” I pointed out.

“That doesn’t matter,” Sarah Jane replied. “If it takes wrinkles away, it should keep us from getting them too. Besides,” she added critically, “it says it takes away freckles. And you have plenty of those.”

I rubbed my nose reflectively. “I sure do. Do you suppose that stuff really would take them off?”

“We can try it and see. I’ll put some on if you will. Where shall we mix it up?”

This would be a problem, since Sarah Jane’s mother was baking in her kitchen. It would be better to work where we wouldn’t have to answer questions about what we were doing.

“Let’s go to your house and see what your mother is doing,” Sarah Jane suggested.

We hurriedly returned the magazine to Laura’s bedroom and dashed back outdoors.

“Do you have all the things we need to put in it?” Sarah Jane asked.

“I know we have wax left over from Ma’s jelly glasses. And I’m sure we have lemons. But I don’t know how much honey is left.

“I know where we can get some, though.” I continued. “Remember that hollow tree in the woods? We found honey there last week.”

Soon we were on our way to collect it in a small pail.

“This is sure going to be messy and sticky to put on our faces,” I commented as we filled the pail.

“Probably the wax takes the sticky out,” Sarah Jane replied. “Anyway, if it takes away your freckles and makes our skin smooth, it won’t matter if it is a little gooey. I wonder how long we leave it on.”

“The directions said to let it dry,” I reminded her. “I suppose the longer you leave it there, the more good it does. We’ll have to take it off before we go in to supper, I guess.”

“I guess so,” Sarah Jane exclaimed. “I don’t know what your brothers would say. But I’m not going to give Caleb a chance to make fun of me.”

I knew what Reuben and Roy would say, too, and I was pretty sure I could predict what Ma would say. There seemed to be no reason to let them know about it.

Fortune was with us, for the kitchen was empty when we cautiously opened the back door. Ma heard us come in and called down from upstairs, “Do you need something, Mabel?”

“No, Ma’am,” I answered. “But we might like a cookie.”

“Help yourself,” Ma replied. “I’m too busy tearing rags to come down right now. You can pour yourselves some milk too.”

I assured her that we could. With a sigh of relief, we went to the pantry for a kettle in which to melt the wax and honey.

“This looks big enough,” Sarah Jane said. “You start that getting hot, and I’ll squeeze the lemons. Do you think two will be enough?”

“I guess two is ‘several.’ Maybe we can tell by the way it looks whether we need more or not.”

“I don’t see how,” Sarah Jane argued. “We never saw any of this stuff before. But we’ll start with two, anyway.”

I placed the pan containing the wax and honey on the hottest part of the stove and pulled up a chair to sit on. “Do you suppose I ought to stir it?” I inquired. “It doesn’t look as though it’s mixing very fast.”

“Give it time,” Sarah Jane advised. “Once the wax melts down, it will mix.”

After a short time, the mixture began to bubble.

“There, see?” she said, stirring it with a spoon. “You can’t tell which is wax and which is honey. I think it’s time to put in the lemon juice.” She picked up the juice, but I stopped her.

“You have to take the seeds out, first, silly. You don’t want knobs all over your face, do you?”

“I guess you’re right. That wouldn’t look too good, would it?”

She dug the seeds out, and we carefully stirred the lemon juice into the pan.

“Umm, it smells good,” I observed.

Sarah Jane agreed. “In fact, it smells a little like Ma’s cough syrup. Do you want to taste it?”

“Sure, I’ll take a little taste.” I licked some off the spoon and smacked my lips. “It’s fine,” I reported. “If it tastes that good, it will certainly be safe to use. Let’s take it to my room and try it.”

We carefully lifted the kettle from the stove. Together we carried the kettle upstairs and set it on my dresser.

“It will have to cool a little before we put it on,” I said.

“What if the wax gets hard again? We’ll have to take it downstairs and heat it all over.”

“It won’t,” I assured her. “The honey will keep it from getting too hard.” By the time the mixture was cool enough to use, it was thick and gooey—but still spreadable.

“Well, here goes,” Sarah Jane said. She dipped a big blob out and spread it on her face. I did the same. Soon our faces were covered with the sticky mess.

“Don’t get it in your hair,” I warned. “It looks like it would be awfully hard to get out. I wonder how long it will take to dry?”

“The magazine didn’t say that. It would probably dry faster outside in the sun. But someone is sure to see us out there. We’d better stay here.... I wish we had brought the magazine to look at.”

“We can look at the Sears catalog,” I suggested. “Let’s play like we’re ordering things for our own house.”

We sat down on the floor and spread the catalog out in front of us. After several minutes, Sarah Jane felt her face.

“I think it’s dry, Mabel,” she announced, hardly moving her lips. “It doesn’t bend or anything.”

I touched mine and discovered the same thing. The mask was solid and hard. It was impossible to move my mouth to speak, so my voice had a funny sound when I answered her.

“So’s mine. Maybe we’d better start taking it off now.”

We ran to the mirror and looked at ourselves.

“We sure look funny.” Sarah Jane laughed the best she could without moving her face. “How did the magazine say to get it off?”

Suddenly we looked at each other in dismay. The magazine hadn’t said anything about removing the mixture, only how to fix and spread it on.

“Well, we’ve done it again,” I said. “How come everything we try works until we’re ready to undo it? We’ll just have to figure some way to get rid of it.”

We certainly did try. We pushed the heavy masks that covered our faces. We pulled them, knocked on them, and tried to soak them off. They would not budge.

“I think we used too much wax and not enough honey,” Sarah Jane puffed as she flopped back down on the bed.

“That’s certainly a great thing to think of now,” I answered crossly. “The only way to move wax is to melt it. And we certainly can’t stick our faces in the fire!”

“Mine feels like it’s already on fire. I don’t think this stuff is good for your skin.”

“You’re going to have to think about more than that,” I told her. “Or this stuff will be your skin. There has to be some way to get it off.”

“We’ve tried everything we can think of. We’ll just have to go down and let your rna help us.”

That was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. But I could see no other alternative. Slowly we trudged down to the kitchen.

Ma was working at the stove, and she said cheerfully, “Are you girls hungry again? It won’t be long until suppertime, so you’d better not eat ....”

She turned around as she spoke. When she spotted us standing in the doorway, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“What on earth? ... What have you done to yourselves?”

I burst into tears. The sight of drops of tears running down that ridiculous mask must have been more than Ma could stand. Suddenly she began to laugh. She laughed until she had to sit down.

“It’s not funny, Ma. We can’t get it off! We’ll have to wear it the rest of our lives!”

Ma controlled herself long enough to come over and feel my face. “What did you put in it?” she asked. “That will help me know how to take it off.”

We told her.

“If you two ever live to grow up, it will only be the Lord’s good mercy. The only thing we can do is apply something hot enough to melt the wax,” Ma told us quickly.

“But we boiled the wax, Ma,” I cried. “You can’t boil our faces!”

“No, 1won’t try anything as drastic as that. I’ll just use hot towels until it gets soft enough to pull away.”

After several applications, we were finally able to start peeling the mixture off. As it came loose, our skin came with it.

“Ouch! That hurts,” I cried.

But Ma could not stop. By the time the last bits of wax and honey were removed, our faces were fiery red and raw.

“What did we do wrong?” Sarah Jane wailed. “We made it just like the magazine said.”

“You may have used the wrong quantities, or left it on too long,” Ma said. “At any rate, I don’t think you’ll try it again.”

“I know I won’t,” Sarah Jane moaned. “I’m going to tell Laura she should ignore that page in her magazine.” She looked at me. “The stuff did one thing they said it would, Mabel. I don’t see any freckles.”

“There’s no skin left, either,” I retorted. “I’d rather have freckles than a face like this.”

“Never mind.” Ma tried to soothe us. “Your faces will be all right in a couple of days.”

“A couple of days!” I howled. “We can’t go to school looking like this!”

***

“We did, though.” Grandma laughed as she finished the story. “After a while we were able to laugh with the others over our foolishness.”

I looked at the little jar of cream that had come in the mail.

“I don’t think I’ll use this, Grandma. I guess I’ll just let my face get wrinkled if it wants to!”

********************************************

Treasures from Grandma's Attic

Cousin Agatha

My best friend, Sarah Jane, and I were walking home from school on a cold November afternoon.

“Do you realize, Mabel, that 1886 is almost over? Another year of nothing important ever happening is nearly gone.”

“Well, we still have a good bit of life ahead of us,” I replied.

“You don’t know that,” Sarah Jane said darkly, “We’re thirteen and a half. We may already have lived nearly a third of our allotted time.”

“The O’Dells live to be awfully old,” I told her. “So, unless I get run down by a horse and buggy, I’ll probably be around awhile.”

We walked along in silence. Then suddenly Sarah Jane pulled me to the side of the road.

“Here’s the horse and buggy that could keep you from becoming an old lady,” she kidded. We turned to see my pa coming down the road.

“Want to ride the rest of the way, girls?” he called. We clambered into the buggy, and Pa clucked to Nellie.

“What did you get in town?” I asked.

“Some things for the farm and a letter for your ma.” Around the next bend, Pa slowed Nellie to a halt. “Your stop, Sarah Jane.”

“Thanks, Mr. O’Dell.” Sarah Jane jumped down. “I’ll be over to study later, Mabel. ‘Bye.”

“Who’s the letter from?” I asked Pa.

“Can’t tell from the handwriting. We’ll have to wait for Ma to tell us.”

When Ma opened the letter, she looked puzzled. “This is from your cousin Agatha,” she said to Pa. “Why didn’t she address it to you, too?”

“If I know Aggie, she wants something,” Pa declared. “And she figured you’d be more likely to listen to her sad story.”

Ma read the letter and shook her head at Pa. “She just wants to come for Thanksgiving. Now aren’t you ashamed of talking that way?”

“No, I’m not. That’s what Aggie says she wants. You can be sure there’s more there than meets the eye. Are you going to tell her to come ahead?”

“Why, of course!” Ma exclaimed. “If I were a widowed lady up in years, I’d want to be with family on Thanksgiving. Why shouldn’t I tell her to come?”

Pa took his hat from the peg by the door and started for the barn, where my older brothers were already at work. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he remarked as he left.

“What did Pa warn you about?” I asked as soon as the door closed behind him. “What does Cousin Agatha want?”

“I don’t believe Pa was talking to you,” Ma replied. “You heard me say that she wants to come for Thanksgiving.”

“Yes, but Pa said—”

“That’s enough, Mabel. We won’t discuss it further.”

I watched silently as Ma sat down at the kitchen table and answered Cousin Agatha’s letter.

Snow began to fall two days before the holiday, and Pa had to hitch up the sleigh to go into town and meet the train.

“It will be just our misfortune to have a real blizzard and be snowed in with that woman for a week,” he grumbled.

“Having Aggie here a few days won’t hurt you,” Ma said. “The way you carry on, you’d think she was coming to stay forever!”

Pa’s look said he considered that a distinct possibility. As I helped Ma with the pies, I questioned her about Cousin Agatha.

“Has she been here before? I can’t remember seeing her.”

“I guess you were pretty small last time Agatha visited,” Ma replied. “I expect she gets lonely in that big house in the city.”

“What do you suppose she wants besides dinner?” I ventured.

“Friendly company,” Ma snapped. “And we’re going to give it to her.”

When the pies were in the oven, I hung around the window, watching for the sleigh. It was nearly dark when I heard the bells on Nellie’s harness ring out across the snow.

“They’re coming, Ma,” I called, and Ma hurried to the door with the lamp held high over her head. The boys and I crowded behind her. Pa jumped down from the sleigh and turned to help Cousin Agatha.

“I don’t need any assistance from you, James,” a firm voice spoke. “I’m perfectly capable of leaving any conveyance under my own power.”

“She talks like a book!” Roy whispered, and Reuben poked him. I watched in awe as a tall, unbending figure sailed into the kitchen.

“Well, Maryanne,” she said, “it’s good to see you.” She removed her big hat, jabbed a long hat pin into it, and handed the hat to me. “You must be Mabel.”

I nodded wordlessly.

“What’s the matter? Can’t you speak?” she boomed.

“Yes, ma’am,” I gulped nervously.

“Then don’t stand there bobbing your head like a monkey on a stick. People will think you have no sense. You can put that hat in my room.”

I stared openmouthed at this unusual person until a gentle push from Ma sent me in the direction of the guest room.

After dinner and prayers, Pa rose with the intention of going to the barn.

“James!” Cousin Agatha’s voice stopped him. “Surely you aren’t going to do the chores with these two great hulking fellows sitting here, are you?”

The two great hulking fellows leaped for the door with a speed I didn’t know they had.

“I should guess so,” Cousin Agatha exclaimed with satisfaction. “If there’s anything I can’t abide, it’s a lazy child.”

As she spoke, Cousin Agatha pulled Ma’s rocker to the stove and lowered herself into it. “This chair would be more comfortable if there were something to put my feet on,” she said, “but I suppose one can’t expect the amenities in a place like this.”

I looked at Ma for some clue as to what “amenities” might be. This was not a word we had encountered in our speller.

“Run into the parlor and get the footstool, Mabel,” Ma directed.

When Cousin Agatha was settled with her hands in her lap and her feet off the cold floor, I started the dishes.

“Maryanne, don’t you think Mabel’s dress is a mite too short?”

Startled, I looked down at my dress.

“No,” Ma’s calm voice replied. “She’s only thirteen, you know. I don’t want her to be grown up too soon.”

“There is such a thing as modesty, you know.” Cousin Agatha sniffed.

Pa and the boys returned just then, so Ma didn’t answer. I steered an uneasy path around Cousin Agatha all evening. For the first time I could remember, I was glad when bedtime came.

The next day was Thanksgiving, and the house was filled with the aroma of good things to eat. From her rocker, Cousin Agatha offered suggestions as Ma scurried about the kitchen.

“Isn’t it time to baste the turkey, Maryanne? I don’t care for dry fowl.”

“I see the boys running around out there with that mangy dog as though they had nothing to do. Shouldn’t they be chopping wood or something?”

“I should think Mabel could be helping you instead of reading a book. If there’s one thing I can’t abide . . . “

“Mabel will set the table when it’s time,” Ma put in. “Maybe you’d like to peel some potatoes?”

The horrified look on Cousin Agatha’s face said she wouldn’t consider it, so Ma withdrew her offer.

A bump on the door indicated that the “mangy dog” was tired of the cold. I laid down my book and let Pep in. He made straight for the stove and his rug.

“Mercy!” Cousin Agatha cried. “Do you let that—that animal in the kitchen?”

“Yes,” Ma replied. “He’s not a young dog any longer. He isn’t any bother, and he does enjoy the heat.”

“Humph.” Agatha pulled her skirts around her. “I wouldn’t allow any livestock in my kitchen. Can’t think what earthly good a dog can be.” She glared at Pep, who responded with a thump of his tail and a sigh of contentment.

“Dumb creature,” Cousin Agatha muttered.

“Pep isn’t dumb, Cousin Agatha,” I said. “He’s really the smartest dog I know.”

“I was not referring to his intellect or lack of it,” she told me, “‘Dumb’ indicates an inability to speak. You will have to concede that he is unable to carry on a conversation.”

I was ready to dispute that, too, but Ma shook her head. Cousin Agatha continued to give Pep disparaging glances.

“Didn’t you ever have any pets at your house, Cousin Agatha?” I asked.

“Pets? I should say not! Where in the Bible does it say that God made animals for man’s playthings? They’re meant to earn their keep, not sprawl out around the house absorbing heat.”

“Oh, Pep works,” I assured her. “He’s been taking the cows out and bringing them back for years now.”

Cousin Agatha was not impressed. She sat back in the rocker and eyed Pep with disfavor. “The one thing I can’t abide, next to a lazy child, is a useless animal—and in the house!”

I began to look nervously at Ma, thinking she might send Pep to the barn to keep the peace. But she went on about her work, serenely ignoring Cousin Agatha’s hints. I was glad when it was time to set the table.

After we had eaten, Pa took the Bible down from the cupboard and read our Thanksgiving chapter, Psalm 100. Then he prayed, thanking the Lord for Cousin Agatha and asking the Lord’s blessing on her just as he did on the rest of us. When he had finished, Cousin Agatha spoke up.

“I believe that I will stay here until Christmas, James. Then, if I find it to my liking, I could sell the house in the city and continue on with you. Maryanne could use some help in teaching these children how to be useful.”

In the stunned silence that followed, I looked at Pa and Ma to see how this news had affected them. Ma looked pale. Before Pa could open his mouth to answer, Cousin Agatha rose from the table. “I’ll just go to my room for a bit of rest,” she said. “We’ll discuss this later.”

When she had left, we gazed at each other helplessly.

“Is there anything in the Bible that tells you what to do now?” I asked Pa.

“Well, it says if we don’t love our brother whom we can see, how can we love God whom we can’t see? I think that probably applies to cousins as well.”

“I’d love her better if I couldn’t see her.” Reuben declared. “We don’t have to let her stay, do we, Pa?”

“No, we don’t have to,” Pa replied. “We could ask her to leave tomorrow as planned. But I’m not sure that would be right. What do you think, Ma?”

“I wouldn’t want to live alone in the city,” Ma said slowly. “I can see that she would prefer the company of a family. I suppose we should ask her to stay until Christmas.”

“I think she already asked herself,” Roy ventured. “But she did say if she found things to her liking. . . .”

We all looked at Roy. Pa said, “You’re not planning something that wouldn’t be to her liking, are you?”

“Oh, no, sir!” Roy quickly answered. “Not me.”

Pa signed. “I’m not sure I’d blame you. She’s not an easy person to live with. We’ll all have to be especially patient with her.”

There wasn’t much Thanksgiving atmosphere in the kitchen as we did the dishes.

“How can we possibly stand it for another whole month?” I moaned.

“The Lord only sends us one day at a time,” Ma informed me. “Don’t worry about more than that. When the other days arrive, you’ll probably find out you worried about all the wrong things.”

As soon as the work was finished, I put on my coat and walked over to Sarah Jane’s.

“What will you do if she stays on after Christmas?” she asked.

“I’ll just die.”

“I thought you were going to be a long-living O’Dell.”

“I changed my mind,” I retorted. “What would you do if you were in my place?”

“I’d probably make her life miserable so she’d want to leave.”

“You know I couldn’t get away with that. Pa believes that Christian love is the best solution.”

“All right, then,” Sarah Jane said with a shrug. “Love her to death.”

As though to fulfill Pa’s prediction, snow began to fall heavily that night. By morning we were snowed in.

“Snowed in?” Cousin Agatha repeated. “You mean unable to leave the house at all?”

“That’s right,” Pa replied. “This one is coming straight down from Canada.”

Cousin Agatha looked troubled. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.”

“We’ll be all right,” Ma reassured her. “We have plenty of wood and all the food we need.”

But Cousin Agatha was not to be reassured. I watched her stare into the fire and twist her handkerchief around her fingers. Why, she’s frightened! I thought. This old lady had been directing things all her life, and here was something she couldn’t control. Suddenly I felt sorry for her.

“Cousin Agatha,” I said, “we have fun when we’re snowed in. We play games and pop corn and tell stories. You’ll enjoy it. I know you will!”

I ran over and put my arms around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. She looked at me in surprise.

“That’s the first time anyone has hugged me since I can remember,” she said. “Do you really like me, Mabel?”

Right then I knew that I did like Cousin Agatha a whole lot. Behind her stern front was another person who needed to be loved and wanted.

“Oh, yes, Cousin Agatha,” I replied. “I really do. You’ll see what a good time we’ll have together.”

The smile that lighted her face was bright enough to chase away any gloom that had settled over the kitchen. And deep down inside, I felt real good.

A special thank you to Audra Jennings from B&B Media, through FIRST blog tours, for sending me a copy to read and review!

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A Most Unsuitable Match by Stephanie Grace Whitson

2011-08-12T00:05:00.001-04:00

Today, CFBA is introducing A Most Unsuitable Match by Stephanie Grace Whitson.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

An unlikely attraction occurs between two passengers on a steamboat journey up the Missouri River to Montana...

She is a self-centered young woman from a privileged family who fears the outdoors and avoids anything rustic. He is a preacher living under a sense of duty and obligation to love the unlovable people in the world. She isn't letting anything deter her from solving a family mystery that surfaced after her mother's death. He is on a mission to reach the rejects of society in the remote wilderness regions of Montana. Miss Fannie Rousseau and Reverend Samuel Beck are opposites in every way... except in how they both keep wondering if their paths will ever cross again.

MY THOUGHTS:

I have yet to read any of Stephanie Grace Whitson’s contemporary novels, but I have always been pleasantly surprised after reading one of her historicals.

A Most Unsuitable Match was no exception. I was immediately drawn to the characters, and really loved Hannah and Lamar. Even Stephanie’s less important characters never feel insignificant, like Minette (and her echo) and Mrs. Tatum’s compassion. Each one adds depth and purpose, as well as the Scripture she effortlessly weaves into the story.

I must say that the burglary scene was unexpected. I was quite sure something more sinister was afoot… apparently not. I was also pretty sure I knew who Edie was.

Although that part of the plot may sound predictable, the rest of the story was not. Combine steamboating, a young blind boy, Indians, a rich, spoiled girl learning how to sweep, a handsome French doctor, and you’ve got all of the right ingredients to keep me up until 1:00 am to finish A Most Unsuitable Match!

Oh yes! I loved the cover, too! :-)

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AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:
A Most Unsuitable Match

Thank you to Stephanie and Bethany House, through CFBA, for sending me a copy to read and review!

Also reviewed on Amazon and Christianbook.

Recommend: YES

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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The One Who Waits for Me by Lori Copeland

2011-08-12T00:01:00.002-04:00

Today's featured author from FIRST is

Lori Copeland

and the book

The One Who Waits for Me

ABOUT THE BOOK:

This new series from bestselling author Lori Copeland, set in North Carolina three months after the Civil War ends, illuminates the gift of hope even in chaos, as the lives of six engaging characters intersect and unfold with the possibility of faith, love, and God’s promise of a future.

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 320 pages
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (August 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0736930183
ISBN-13: 978-0736930185

MY THOUGHTS:

The One Who Waits for Me is the first book I’ve read written by Lori Copeland. I must say I was disappointed.

The girl and boy on the cover (yes, girl and boy) look to be about 14 years old. I thought the six main characters (3 females, 3 males) acted almost like 14 years old in the book, too.

The story was choppy and confusing.

Preach and Trella are sort of left behind in the storyline (in fact, at one time I thought I’d missed that Preach had left for home…but, no, he was still there, just never mentioned). **SPOILER: Yet, bang! Trying to tie everything up at the end, Preach and Trella are getting married.

Same with Gray Eagle. His mother was a white woman and taught him ‘white man’s ways.’ He speaks English very well, and is even planning to study medicine. Yet, at the end, not at all consistent with his character, he says in stereotypical ‘Indian,’ “…what is the white-man’s term? Fools?”

And, Beth… and Pierce. Sigh.

Really, about the only character that felt fairly true-to-life was Joanie. And, since she wasn’t the main ‘main’ character, she couldn’t make up for a story that lacked in so many areas.

Overall, The One Who Waits for Me just wasn’t cohesive. There were just too many odd characters and situations (a greedy uncle and dumb cousin, nuns that want to build a town) that nothing flowed right for me. Add to that the 14-year old youth group feel, and I couldn’t bring myself to like the story.

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AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:

Joanie?”

Beth’s sister stirred, coughing.

Beth gently shook Joanie’s shoulder again, and the young woman opened her eyes, confusion shining in their depths.

“Pa?”

“He passed a few minutes ago. Trella will be waiting for us.”

Joanie lifted her wrist to her mouth and smothered sudden sobbing. “I’m scared, Beth.”

“So am I. Dress quickly.”

The young woman slid out of bed, her bare feet touching the dirt-packed floor. Outside, the familiar sound of pond frogs nearly drowned out soft movements, though there was no need to be silent any more. Ma had preceded Pa in death two days ago. Beth and Joanie had been waiting, praying for the hour of Pa’s death to come swiftly. Together, they lifted their father’s silent form and gently carried him out the front door. He was a slight man, easy to carry. Beth’s heart broke as they took him to the shallow grave they had dug the day before. Ma’s fever had taken her swiftly. Pa had held on for as long as he could. Beth could still hear his voice in her ear: “Take care of your sister, little Beth.” He didn’t have to remind her that there was no protection at all now to save either of them from Uncle Walt and his son, Bear. Beth had known all of her life that one day she and Joanie would have to escape this place—a place of misery.

It was her father’s stubborn act that started the situation Beth and Joanie were immersed in. Pa had hid the plantation deed from his brother and refused to tell him where it was. Their land had belonged to a Jornigan for two hundred years, but Walt claimed that because he was the older brother and allowed Pa to live on his land the deed belonged to him. Pa was a proud man and had no respect for his brother, though his family depended on Walt for a roof over their heads and food on their table. For meager wages they worked Walt’s fields, picked his cotton, and suffered his tyranny along with the other workers. Pa took the location of the hidden deed to his grave—almost. Walt probably figured Beth knew where it was because Pa always favored her. And she did, but she would die before she shared the location with her vile uncle.

By the light of the waning moon the women made short work of placing the corpse in the grave and then filling the hole with dirt. Finished, they stood back and Joanie bowed her head in prayer. “Dear Father, thank You for taking Ma and Pa away from this world. I know they’re with You now, and I promise we won’t cry.” Hot tears streaming down both women’s cheeks belied her words.

Returning to the shanty, Joanie removed her nightshirt and put on boy’s clothes. Dressed in similar denim trousers and a dark shirt, Beth turned and picked up the oil lamp and poured the liquid carefully around the one-room shanty. Yesterday she had packed Ma’s best dishes and quilts and dragged them to the root cellar. It was useless effort. She would never be back here, but she couldn’t bear the thought of fire consuming Ma’s few pretty things. She glanced over her shoulder when the stench of fuel heightened Joanie’s cough. The struggle to breathe had been a constant companion since her younger sister’s birth.

Many nights Beth lay tense and fearful, certain that come light Joanie would be gone. Now that Ma and Pa were dead, Joanie was the one thing left on this earth that held meaning for Beth. She put down the lamp on the table. Walking over to Joanie, she buttoned the last button on her sister’s shirt and tugged her hat brim lower.

“Do you have everything?”

“Yes.”

“Then go outside and wait.”

Nodding, Joanie paused briefly beside the bed where Pa’s tall frame had been earlier. She hesitantly reached out and touched the empty spot. “May you rest in peace, Pa.”

Moonlight shone through the one glass pane facing the south. Beth shook her head. “He was a good man. It’s hard to believe Uncle Walt had the same mother and father.”

Joanie’s breath caught. “Pa was so good and Walt is so…evil.”

“If it were up to me, he would be lying in that grave outside the window, not Pa.”

Beth tried to recall one single time in her life when Walt Jornigan had ever shown an ounce of mercy to anyone. Certainly not to his wife when she was alive. Certainly not to Beth or Joanie. If Joanie was right and there was a God, what would Walt say when he faced Him? She shook the thought aside. She had no compassion for the man or reverence for the God her sister believed in and worshipped.

“We have to go now, Joanie.”

“Yes.” She picked up her Bible from the little table beside the rocking chair and then followed Beth outside the shanty, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Pausing, Joanie bent and succumbed to a coughing spasm. Beth helplessly waited, hoping her sister could make the anticipated trip through the cotton fields. The women had planned for days now to escape if Ma and Pa both passed.

Beth asked gently, “Can you do this?”

Joanie held up a restraining hand. “Just need…a minute.”

Beth wasn’t certain that they could wait long; time was short. Dawn would be breaking soon, and then Walt would discover that Pa had died and the sisters were missing. But they had to leave. Joanie’s asthma was getting worse. Each gasping breath left her drained and hopeless, and Walt refused to let her see a doctor.

When Joanie had mentioned the notice in a discarded Savannah newspaper advertising a piece of land, Beth knew she had to buy the property and provide a home for Joanie. Pa had allowed her and Joanie to keep the wage Uncle Walt paid monthly. Over the years they had saved enough to survive, and the owner was practically giving the small acreage away. They wouldn’t be able to build a permanent structure on their land until she found work, but she and Joanie would own their own place where no one could control them. Beth planned to eventually buy a cow and a few setting hens. At first they could live in a tent—Beth’s eyes roamed the small shanty. It would be better than how they lived now.

Joanie’s spasm passed and she glanced up. “Okay. You…can do it now.”

Beth struck a match.

She glanced at Joanie. The young woman nodded and clutched her Bible to her chest. Beth had found it in one of the cotton picker’s beds after he had moved on and given it to Joanie. Her sister had kept the Bible hidden from sight for fear that Walt would spot it on one of his weekly visits. Beth had known, as Joanie had, that if their uncle had found it he’d have had extra reason to hand out his daily lashing. Joanie kept the deed to their new land between its pages.

After pitching the lighted match into the cabin, Beth quickly closed the heavy door. Stepping to the window, she watched the puddles of kerosene ignite one by one. In just minutes flames were licking the walls and gobbling up the dry tinder. A peculiar sense of relief came over her when she saw tendrils of fire racing through the room, latching onto the front curtain and encompassing the bed.

“Don’t watch.” Joanie slipped her hand into Beth’s. “We have to hurry before Uncle Walt spots the flames.”

Hand in hand, the sisters stepped off the porch, and Beth turned to the mounds of fresh dirt heaped not far from the shanty. Pausing before the fresh graves, she whispered. “I love you both. Rest in peace.”

Joanie had her own goodbyes for their mother. “We don’t want to leave you and Pa here alone, but I know you understand—”

As the flames licked higher, Beth said, “We have to go, Joanie. Don’t look back.”

“I won’t.” Her small hand quivered inside Beth’s. “God has something better for us.”

Beth didn’t answer. She didn’t know whether Ma and Pa were in a good place or not. She didn’t know anything about such things. She just knew they had to run.

The two women dressed in men’s clothing struck off across the cotton fields carrying everything they owned in a small bag. It wasn’t much. A dress for each, clean underclothes, and their nightshirts. Beth had a hairbrush one of the pickers had left behind. She’d kept the treasure well hidden so Walt wouldn’t see it. He’d have taken it from her. He didn’t hold with primping—said combing tangles from one’s hair was a vain act. Finger-picking river-washed hair was all a woman needed.

Fire now raced inside the cabin. By the time Uncle Walt noticed the smoke from the plantation house across the fields, the two sisters would be long gone. No longer would they be under the tyrannical thumb of Walt or Bear Jornigan.

Freedom.

Beth sniffed the night air, thinking she could smell the precious state. Never again would she or Joanie answer to any man. She would run hard and far and find help for Joanie so that she could finally breathe free. In her pocket she fingered the remaining bills she’d taken from the fruit jar in the cabinet. It was all the ready cash Pa and Ma had. They wouldn’t be needing money where they were.

Suddenly there was a sound of a large explosion. Heavy black smoke blanketed the night air. Then another blast.

Kerosene! She’d forgotten the small barrel sitting just outside the back porch.

It was the last sound Beth heard.

Thank you to Lori, through Karri/Harvest House and FIRST, for sending me a copy to read and review!

Also reviewed on Amazon and Christianbook.

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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Tea Collection Review and Giveaway!

2011-08-02T09:30:00.006-04:00

It's hard to believe, but summer is coming to a close and all of the back-to-school stuff is filling the store shelves! Although I loved my new notebooks and pencils each year (still do!!), the majority of our shopping when I was school-aged was for back-to-school outfits!

I was recently introduced to Tea. A company dedicated to unique, travel-inspired children's clothing.

"Everything [Tea]—our products, images, words and ideas—is inspired by going there and being here. And by our passion for exploring different cultures. We are awed by the unique beauty and diversity of people around the world."

Each season, you will find a new Tea collection based on the designers' travels. This fall's collection was inspired by which global destination? Mexico!

Michelle from Tea graciously allowed me to choose some of their beautiful girl's clothes for my daughter. I went straight to the new Fall 2011 collection and immediately, the Bird of Paradise dress caught my eye.

Isn't the pattern and color beautiful? I can see how a Mexican trip would inspire this breezy, vibrant dress! I love that I can add a sweater, and this dress will last my daughter through chilly fall and winter days, too!

I also chose the Flores de Calabaza Top. I LOVE this shirt on my girl.

The hue is such a pretty cornflower blue, and the fabric is soft and cool.

The shirt can be casual worn with jeans, or dressed up by pairing with a skirt.

Tea offers boy's clothing and baby clothes, too! And every piece is easy to mix and match! You'll easily find that unique back-to-school outfit for your child when you shop at Tea!

(For you bargain hunters, Tea has a great sale section, too!)

Don't forget to follow Tea on Facebook or Twitter!

**GIVEAWAY ALERT: You can enter to WIN a $100 gift certificate to Tea HERE!

Thank you to Michelle from Tea Collection for sending me these lovely outfits to review!

**Disclaimer: This is a MamaBuzz Media review. I was given a free product from Tea for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and are based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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Summer Dream by Martha Rogers

2011-07-16T00:05:00.002-04:00

Today's featured FIRST author is:

Martha Rogers

and the book:

Summer Dream

Realms (June 7, 2011)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Martha Rogers is the author of Becoming Lucy; Morning for Dove; Finding Becky; Caroline’s Choice; Not on the Menu, a part of a novella collection with DiAnn Mills, Janice Thompson, and Kathleen Y’Barbo; and River Walk Christmas, a novella collection with Beth Goddard, Lynette Sowell, and Kathleen Y’Barbo. A former schoolteacher and English instructor, she has a master’s degree in education and lives with her husband in Houston, Texas.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

This is a new series by Martha Rogers.

“Summer Dream is a sweet, heartfelt, and well-written story about faith in action and a love that never fails. I can't wait to read the rest of this series.”—Andrea Boeshaar, author of Unexpected Love and Undaunted Faith

A Heart in Need of Redemption. An Unlikely Love. And a God Who Can Bring Them Together.

As the daughter of a small-town minister in Connecticut, Rachel Winston fears that the only way she’ll ever find a husband is to visit her aunt in Boston for the social season. But when Nathan Reed arrives in town, she can’t help but wonder if he could be the one.

Although attracted to Rachel, Nathan has no desire to become involved with a Christian after experiences with his own family. What’s more, until he resolves his anger with God and his family, he has no chance of courting her.

When Nathan is caught in a devastating blizzard and lies near death in the Winston home, Rachel and her mother give him a lesson in love and forgiveness that leads him back to his home in the South. Will he make peace with his family and return before Rachel chooses a path that takes her away from him?

MY THOUGHTS:

Although Martha has published many books, Summer Dream is the first book of hers that I've read. I really enjoyed it. I found the characters likable and the plot believable. It was a bit slow in some places for me, but I think that was because I was reading it in the middle of my daughter's birthday preparations (ie: cleaning the house for grandparent company)! :-)

Rachel and her friend Abigail were portrayed as sweet young ladies on the verge of finding the right husband. No overt flirting, no games, just nice girls. Of course Rachel, a minister's daughter, has to fall for the one man who appears out of reach.

Although the author doesn't share the reason for supposedly unsuitable Nathan's bitterness until nearer the end of the book, I never disliked him or felt like he was a 'bad boy,' having done something terrible. As I read, I just hoped he could resolve the issues with his family, whatever they were, and have a chance at courting Rachel.

I also enjoyed the friendly family scenes at the apple orchard and the girls' trip to Boston. I'm looking forward to book 2, Seasons of the Heart, which is coming out in October. By the end of Summer Dream, I had an idea that Martha might continue the story of Daniel, Rachel's brother, as he heads west to Texas. Looks like I'm right! I'll be looking for its release and checking out Martha's previous books!

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Product Details:

List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Realms (June 7, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616383607
ISBN-13: 978-1616383602

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Briar Ridge, Connecticut, February 5, 1888

Why did Papa have to be so stubborn? Rachel Winston stared at the gray clouds outside her window and fought the urge to stomp her foot like a spoiled child. However, young women of twenty years must behave as befitting their age, as Mama so often reminded her. Perhaps she should have shown the letter to her mother first. Too late for that now; Papa would tell Mama as soon as he had the opportunity.

The back door closed with a thud, and Rachel shuddered. Papa had left for the church. His departing meant she needed to finish dressing or she’d be late, and then Papa would be even more upset with her. It wouldn’t do for the preacher’s family to be late for the services.

The paper in her pocket crackled when she moved toward the bed to retrieve her boots. Rachel fingered the crumpled edges of Aunt Mabel’s letter. There was no need to read it again, for she knew the words by heart. Her aunt’s invitation to come to Boston for an extended visit had arrived at a most inopportune time with the winter weather in the northern states at its worst. Even so, she shared the letter with Papa, hoping he might be agreeable to the visit.

A metallic taste soured her mouth, and she swallowed hard in an attempt to squelch it. Papa argued that the unpredictable weather of February made travel from Connecticut to Boston dangerous. If only one of the many Boston trains came to Briar Ridge. Aunt Mabel meant well, but her timing left something to be desired. Papa didn’t even want her going to Hartford or Manchester to board a train. It took over three hours by horseback to make the journey to Hartford—longer in bad weather.

She grasped the wrinkled letter in her hand and pulled it from its resting place. “Oh, Auntie, why did you wait until now to invite me for a visit?” she said to the letter, as if Aunt Mabel could hear her. “Last spring when I graduated from the academy would have been perfect, but you had to travel abroad.” A deep sigh filled her, then escaped in a long breath and a slump of her shoulders.

Aunt Mabel believed that a young woman should go to finishing school before she thought of marriage and had offered to pay for Rachel’s tuition. Papa had frowned on the idea, but her mother finally prevailed. For that, Rachel was most grateful, and she wouldn’t have traded those years at the academy for marriage to anyone. But now that she was twenty, she found that the pool of eligible bachelors in her area was slim to nonexistent.

Going to Boston would have provided the opportunity to meet more young men.

Rachel sat on the bed to ease off her slippers and bent over for the winter boots thatwould protect her feet from the slush. The frozen ground outdoors called for them, but they were not the choice she would have liked to wear to church this morning. Rachel shoved her feet down into the sturdy boots designed for warmth, not attractive appearance.

Of the eligible young men in Briar Ridge, only one came to mind, but then Daniel Monroe didn’t count. His sister had been Rachel’s best friend since Papa came to be pastor of the Briar Ridge church nearly seventeen years ago. Daniel treated her more like his sister anyway. Two years older, and just starting out as a lawyer, he was far more knowledgeable than she, and keeping up a conversation with him took more effort than she deemed it to be worth. Rachel had finished at the seminary with good marks, but Daniel’s conversation interests leaned more toward science and new inventions like electricity and the telephone than things of interest to her.
Rachel’s anger subsided as she pulled on the laces of her boots. As she reflected on her father, she remembered that he loved her and wanted only the best for her. He had promised that when spring came, he’d talk to her about the trip. Until then she would be the obedient daughter he wanted her to be and dream of the trip ahead. The Lord would give her patience, even though that was not one of her virtues.

She smoothed her skirt down over her hips and picked up the letter to place it on the table beside her bed. A response to Aunt Mabel would go out with tomorrow’s mail to express her regrets in not being able to accept the invitation. Papa would probably write to her as well, but Rachel wanted her aunt to know how much she appreciated the invitation.

If Seth were here now, he could give her good counsel. He’d always been the one she’d turned to when things didn’t go well with Mama and Papa. She loved her older brother and missed him, but he’d be home from the seminary in May, and she could talk with him then. Since he studied to be a minister like Papa, he’d most likely leave Briar Ridge if his ministry took him elsewhere after his graduation.

She’d met a few young men while at school, but the strict rules and regulations set forth at Bainbridge Academy for Young Women in Hartford had given her few opportunities to develop a relationship. Not that she would have considered any of them, but she would have appreciated the chance.
Mama called to her, and Rachel hurried to the front hall. She noted the firm set of Mama’s jaw and braced for the scolding that would be in order. “I’m sorry to take so long, Mama.” She grabbed her cloak from its hook.
“You know how your father hates for us to be late to church. It is unseemly for the minister’s family to be the last to arrive.” Mama turned and walked outside, her back ramrod straight.

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. No time for a scolding now. She set a dark blue bonnet firmly over her hair and fastened the ties. She followed her mother out to the carriage, where the rest of the family waited. As usual, Papa had gone on ahead to open the church and stoke the two stoves to provide heat on this cold winter morning. Rachel climbed up beside her sister, Miriam, and reached for the blanket.

“What delayed you, Rachel? There’s no excuse for not being ready with everyone else.” Mama settled in her seat beside Noah, who had taken over his brother’s responsibilities until his own departure for college next fall.
“Time slipped away from me.” No need to tell her everything now. Rachel tucked a blanket around her legs and glanced at Miriam beside her. Miriam’s eyebrows lifted in question, but Rachel shook her head.

Micah piped up from the front seat. “Did you make Papa angry?”

“Micah! Of course not.” Rachel glanced at her brother Noah and noted the smirk on his face. She frowned to let him know she didn’t approve.
His gaze slid to her now. “Oh, then why did he stomp through the kitchen and ride off without a word to anybody?”

Mama clucked her tongue. “Now, children, it’s the Sabbath. Papa was late and in a hurry to get to the church.” But the look in Mama’s eyes promised she’d speak to Rachel about it later, especially after Mama learned the real reason for the tardiness.

Even though his decision disappointed her, Papa simply wanted to protect her from danger. She should be grateful for his love and concern, not angry because he said no. The promise of a trip to Boston when the weather improved would have to be enough to get her through the remainder of winter.

A recent snowfall still covered the frozen ground. Most of it in the streets had melted into a hodgepodge of brown and black slush caused by carriages and buggies winding their way toward the church. Rachel breathed deeply of the clean, fresh air that seemed to accompany snow in winter and rain in the spring.
If not for the inconveniences caused by ice and snow, she would love this time of year, even when the leafless branches of the trees cracked and creaked with a coating of ice. She gazed toward the gray skies that promised more snow before the day ended. If it would wait until later in the day, she might manage a visit with her best friend Abigail this afternoon.
However, a warm house, a cup of hot tea flavored with mint from Mama’s herb garden, and a good book might entice her to stay home on this cold, winter afternoon. Tomorrow would bring the chores of keeping the woodpile stocked and the laundry cleaned. She enjoyed the winter months, although this year she wished them to hurry by.

Miriam snuggled closer. Rachel smiled at her sister, who had recently turned thirteen. “I see you’re wearing your Christmas dress today. Is there a special occasion?”
Miriam’s cheeks turned a darker shade of red. “Um, not exactly.”

“Then what is it . . . exactly?”
Miriam tilted her head to one side and peered up at Rachel. She whispered, “Jimmy Turner.”
So her little sister had begun to notice boys. “Well now, I think he’s a handsome lad. Has he shown an interest in you?”

Miriam nodded and giggled. Rachel wrapped an arm around her sister as the buggy slowed to enter the churchyard. She stepped down onto the snow-covered ground muddied by all the wagons crossing over it. Now she was thankful for the thick stockings and shoes she wore to protect her toes. She then reached up for Micah while Miriam raced ahead.

The little boy pushed her hands away. “I can get down by myself.”

Rachel couldn’t resist the temptation to laugh. At seven, her younger brother expressed his independence and insisted on doing things for himself. He jumped with his feet square in a pile of snow and looked first at his feet then up to Rachel. She shook her head and grabbed his hand to go inside the building. How that little boy loved the snow. He’d be out in it all day if Mama would let him.

When she entered the foyer with Micah, she spotted Miriam already sitting in their pew with Jimmy Turner in the row behind her. Rachel hastened to sit down beside her sister. Miriam stared straight ahead but twisted her hands together in her lap.

When had Miriam grown up? Even now she showed signs of the beauty she would one day be. Thick, dark lashes framed her brown eyes, and her cheeks held a natural pink glow. Papa would really have to keep an eye out for his younger daughter.
Rachel glanced around the assembly room and once again admired the beauty of the old church built not long after the turn of the century. Instead of the quarry stone and masonry of the churches in Boston and even New Haven, Briar Ridge’s church walls were of white clapboard with large stained-glass windows along the sides. On bright days, sunlight streamed through them to create patterns of color across the congregation.

Brass light fixtures hung from the high vaulted ceilings, and the flames from the gaslights danced in the breeze as the back doors opened to admit worshippers. As much as she loved her church here in Briar Ridge, she remembered the electric lights she’d enjoyed in Hartford, one of the first cities to have its own generating plant. How long before electricity would become as widespread in Briar Ridge as it was in the larger cities? Probably awhile since Briar Ridge wasn’t known for its progress.
When the family first came to town, Rachel had been three years old, so this was the only home and church she could remember before leaving for school. Familiar faces met her everywhere she gazed. A nod and smile greeted each one as she searched for her friend Abigail and the Monroe family.
Unexpectedly a new face came into view a few rows back. A young man with the most incredible brown eyes stared back at her. Rachel’s breath caught in her throat, and the heat rose in her cheeks.

She felt her mother’s hand on her arm. “Turn around, Rachel. It’s not polite to stare.”
With her heart threatening to jump right out of her chest, Rachel tore her gaze away from the stranger seated with the Monroe family. Papa entered from the side door and stepped up to the pulpit. The service began with singing, but Rachel could barely make a sound. Everything in her wanted to turn and gaze again at the mysterious person with the Monroe family, but that behavior would be unseemly for the daughter of the minister.

However, her thoughts refused to obey and skipped to their own rhythm. Rachel decided that whoever he was, he must be a friend of Daniel’s because Abigail had never mentioned any man of interest in her own life. In a town like Briar Ridge, everyone knew everyone’s business. She hadn’t heard any talk of a guest from Daniel or her other friends yesterday.
A prickling sensation crept along her neck as though someone watched her. She blinked her eyes and willed herself to look at Papa and concentrate on his message. However, her mind filled with images of the young man. Who was this stranger who had come to Briar Ridge?

Nathan Reed contemplated the dark curls peeking from beneath the blue bonnet. When she had turned and their eyes met, his heart leaped. He had never expected to see such a beauty in a town like Briar Ridge. His friend Daniel’s sister was attractive, but nothing like this raven-haired girl with blue eyes.
When she turned her head back toward the front, he stared at her back as if to will her to turn his way again. When she didn’t, he turned his sights to gaze around the church, so much like others he’d once attended. He wouldn’t be here this morning except out of politeness for the Monroe family. He’d arrived later than intended last evening and welcomed Mrs. Monroe’s offer to stay the night with them. The least he could do was attend the service today.

Nathan had no use for church or things of God. He believed God existed, but only for people who needed something or someone to lean on. God had forsaken the Reed family years ago, and Nathan had done quite well without any help these four years away from home.

He shook off thoughts of the past and concentrated once more on the blue bonnet several rows ahead. Perhaps Daniel would introduce him. She would be a nice diversion from the business he must attend to while in town. He blocked the words of the minister from his mind and concentrated on the girl’s back.
The little boy seated next to the young woman seemed restless, so she lifted him onto her lap. The child couldn’t be her son. She didn’t look old enough. Then the older woman next to them reached for the boy and settled him in her arms. In a few minutes the boy’s head nodded in sleep.
Nathan resisted the urge to pull his watch from his pocket and check the time. Surely the service would end soon. Potbellied stoves in the front and back of the church provided warmth, and the additional heat of so many bodies caused him to wish he had shed his coat. He fought the urge to nod off himself. Oh, to be like the young lad in his mother’s arms.
Finally the congregation rose, and the organ played the final hymn. It was none too soon for Nathan, for he had grown more uncomfortable by the minute. Long sermons only added to his distaste for affairs of the church. The singing ended and people began their exit, but he kept his eye on the girl in blue until the crowd blocked her from view.

He stayed behind the Monroe family, who stopped to greet the minister. Mrs. Monroe turned to Nathan. “Reverend Winston, this is Nathan Reed, our houseguest from Hartford this week and a friend of Daniel’s.”

The minister smiled in greeting and shook Nathan’s hand. “It’s very nice to have you in our services today, Mr. Reed. I hope you enjoy your stay in Briar Ridge and that we’ll see more of you.”

“Thank you, sir. I look forward to my visit here.” But the minister wouldn’t be seeing any more of him unless they possibly met in town.

When they reached the Monroe carriage, Nathan turned and spotted the girl coming down the steps. He watched as Daniel waved to the young woman and she waved back. Abigail ran to greet her, and the girls hurried over to where Nathan stood with Daniel. Abigail tucked her hand in the girl’s elbow.
“Nathan, this is my best friend, Rachel Winston. Rachel, this is Daniel’s former roommate in college, Nathan Reed.”

Rachel Winston? Nathan’s hopes dashed against the slushy ground on which he stood. Could she be the preacher’s daughter? He didn’t mind a young woman being Christian, but he drew the line at keeping company with one so close to the ministry.
When her blue eyes gazed into his, a spark of interest flamed, and it took him a few seconds before remembering his manners. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Winston.”
Her cheeks flushed red, and she glanced away slightly but still smiled. “Thank you. I’m pleased to meet you too, Mr. Reed. Perhaps we’ll see each other again if you’re in town long.”

Rachel’s smile sent a warmth into his heart that caused him to swallow hard. Although the length of his stay was uncertain, his desire to see the lovely Miss Winston again might just override his pledge to avoid anything or anyone with ties to the church.

Thank you to Martha, through Charisma House | Charisma Media and FIRST blog tours, for sending me a copy to read and review!

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Top Ten Reasons I Want to Visit Virginia Beach!

2011-07-12T09:55:00.000-04:00

I don’t know about you, but with the economy the way it is, a family vacation has been put on the back burner this year.

But, I can dream, can’t I??

Photo Credit: herrberg

Today, I’m working with Social Moms to give you my top ten reasons I’d want to visit Virginia Beach!

I adore my children, but every mom needs a little break sometimes. I want to visit one of the many spas that Virginia Beach offers! A relaxing massage or soothing pedicure would certainly start my vacation out on the right foot (pun intended)! ;-)

My husband and I love our American history. Virginia Beach offers several museums worth visiting, from lighthouses to military monuments! And, Colonial Williamsburg is also right ‘next door!’ This would make a great ‘summer fieldtrip’ learning experience for the kids, too!

One of the most important things on any vacation for our family is FOOD! Virginia Beach has some goodies that I want to eat! I would love to take the Coastal Food Tour! What better time to sample seafood then when it’s fresher than fresh?!

You would think the beach would be my number one reason to visit Virginia Beach. Not quite, but pretty close! ;-) My children would love to splash in the waves and build a sandcastle on Virginia Beach! My daughter would likely bring along her Dora umbrella to protect her from the sun’s rays!

Photo Credit: Anamu

And no trip to the beach would be complete without burying daddy in the sand! The kids might even be able to coax mama into a sand coffin for fun!

The Virginia Aquarium and Marine Science Center! I could splash with Virginia seals or take a boat excursion to watch dolphins! Soo fun! I have always thought this would be exciting!

Fishing! My young children got their first fishing poles this year. Virginia Beach has some fabulous fishing opportunities! Catching ‘the big one’ would absolutely thrill my husband and son.

This reason is totally mine. Not family oriented – at least not my family. I want to take a little side trip to Busch Gardens! (Hubby does not enjoy amusement parks. Something about those loopy-de-loop rollercoasters!) But, me! Wheeeeee! Super fun!

Accommodations to fit my family! I would want to rent an oceanfront home on Virginia Beach! Some of you would prefer a hotel or resort – but not me! I like the idea of having my own home away from home while on vacation, watching the sunrise and sunset from 'my' deck! You can even find rentals with pools and hot tubs and game rooms! Sign me up!

So whether it’s the sandy beach or picnic in a park, I’d most want to visit Virginia Beach to spend time with the family that God has blessed me with. Isn’t that what any vacation is really for?

Those are MY ten reasons for wanting to visit Virginia Beach...what are yours??

**Disclaimer: I wrote this blog post while participating in the SocialMoms and Virginia Beach Tourism blogging program, for a gift card worth $40. For more information on how you can participate, click here. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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My New Picnic Essential: S'MOREOs!

2011-06-30T17:56:00.000-04:00

This weekend, we honor the beginning of our United States of America. Many of us will celebrate this important day with parades and picnics. It's also a great time to start our summer activities and spend some time with family and friends!

S'mores are a staple at picnics and bonfires all year round. I can take 'em or leave 'em.

I usually leave 'em.

Not the hugest fan of the graham cracker element. (I think they invoke memories of learning-to-eat-solid-food toddlers -- you know. Gooey, soggy...eww).

Anyway, hope I didn't ruin your summertime treat for you! ;-) Do not fear, I've discovered another option for which I am giddy over!

a S'MOREO!!

Ohhhhh.... thank you, random facebook photo, that introduced me to this double chocolatey, sweet oreo cream version!

Not much more to say -- cross off those graham crackers and add chocolate sandwich cookies, marshmallows, and chocolate bars to your picnic food list! Typical s'mores preparation. Eat and enjoy!!

You will have happy (and messy) picnickers! :-)

**Disclaimer: Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.** ___________________________________

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Iced Coffee

2011-06-27T07:04:00.005-04:00

My husband is the coffee drinker in our house. I've tried the dark brew many different ways, but just don't like it. I figure if I didn't develop the coffee habit in college, while pulling cramming-for-exam-all-nighters, I never will.

An icy cold Coca-Cola on the other hand...

Anyway... ;-)

Hubby also likes iced coffee, but has never tried making it at home. He says chilled down coffee with ice cubes just isn't the same.

So, when I saw Ree Drummond's (aka Pioneer Woman) recipe for iced coffee, I thought I'd attempt the cold concoction as a surprise for the man I love.

First of all, PW's recipe and instructions were great. However, the proportions (even halved) were just too much for this 1-coffee-drinker household.

It really made a bit of a mess.

The biggest containers I had were my large crockpot and Rachael Ray pasta pot...and oy! Trying to strain it was a disaster! Coffee and wet grounds everywhere!

So, my tip for you: 1 cup of coffee grounds per every 1 quart of water!

So, use 2 cups of coffee and 2 quarts of water to end up with a manageable will-fit-in-your-fridge 2-quart pitcher of cold-brew coffee.

Once your coffee concentrate has chilled, it's time to prepare the final drink.

Here's what hubby thinks is the best:

Fill a glass half-full with ice. Pour coffee into glass, about 3/4 of the way.

Now, drizzle 2 heaping tablespoons of sweetened condensed milk into the brew.

(This is also where you could add chocolate syrup, vanilla syrup...whatever suits your fancy).

Stir well to combine.

Drink and be happy someone finally shared how to make a GOOD glass of iced coffee at home!

Husband of mine says this is iced coffee perfection, and that I am to have a pitcher of coffee concentrate in the fridge at all times. :-)

Check out Ree's Iced Coffee recipe HERE.

Recommend: YES

**Disclaimer: Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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The Lady of Bolton Hill by Elizabeth Camden

2011-06-25T11:45:00.000-04:00

I had the opportunity, through Bethany House Book Reviewers, to read and review The Lady of Bolton Hill by Elizabeth Camden.

ABOUT THE BOOK:
When Clara Endicott and Daniel Tremain's worlds collide after twelve years apart, the spark that was once between them immediately reignites. But time has changed them both. As they face a painful reckoning, can they withstand the cost of their convictions while their hearts--and lives--hang in the balance?

MY THOUGHTS:
I’m going through a string of books right now that just aren’t holding my interest. The back cover teaser sound so good…the covers look so pretty, but I’m coming away disappointed in the stories.

The Lady of Bolton Hill was just…different. I didn’t see much ‘lady’ in Clara – except that she came from a wealthy family and wore beautiful gowns. She was quite outspoken – being a journalist, and – of age or not – downright disrespectful to her father. Daniel’s hatred and anger screams across the pages and makes it very hard to like him, even knowing the reason behind his bitterness.

And then there’s the opium storyline…what?! I couldn’t understand why it was included, and yet it was the main focus for the climax. I never understood what the Professor wanted from Daniel (or who the Professor actually was)? I’m glad Bane was able to escape, but, again…I just couldn’t connect what the cronies of the drug underworld had to do with Clara or Daniel?

That part was all just…um…icky. I just didn’t like it.

Pretty cover, but The Lady of Bolton Hill had too many conflicting, disagreeable characters and subjects that did not meld into a seamless, enjoyable story for me.

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Thank you to Elizabeth, through Jim Hart and Bethany House Book Reviewers, for sending me a copy to read and review!

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Spring for Susannah by Catherine Richmond

2011-06-20T11:05:00.000-04:00

*Don't forget to scroll down to see how you can enter Catherine's Kindle GIVEAWAY!*

About Spring for Susannah:

Hundreds of miles from home, Susannah faces an uncertain future as a mail-order bride on the untamed Dakota prairie.

When her parents die suddenly, and no suitors call, Susannah resigns herself to the only option available: becoming a mail-order bride. Agreeing to marry her pastor's brother, Jesse, Susannah leaves the only home she's ever known for the untamed frontier of the Dakota Territory.

Her new husband is more loving and patient with her than she believes she deserves. Still, there is also a wildness to him that mirrors the wilderness surrounding them. And Susannah finds herself constantly on edge. But Jesse's confidence in her-and his faith in God's perfect plan-slowly begin to chip away at the wall she hides behind.

When she miscarries in the brutal Dakota winter, Susannah's fledgling faith in herself and in God begins to crumble. Still, Jesse's love is unwavering. Just when it seems like winter will never end, Susannah finally sees the first tentative evidence of spring. And with it, the realization that more than the landscape has changed.

She looks to the future with a renewed heart. Yet in her wildest dreams, she couldn't predict all that awaits her.

Meet Catherine:

Catherine Richmond was focused on her career as an occupational therapist till a special song planted a story idea in her mind. That idea would ultimately become Spring for Susannah, her first novel. She is also a founder and moderator of Nebraska Novelist critique group and lives in Nebraska with her husband.

MY THOUGHTS:

I thought Catherine's debut novel, Spring for Susannah, was an enjoyable read. Sticking Susannah's shy personality and Jesse's exuberance in a cramped soddy gives the traditional mail-order bride storyline a fresh perspective.

Susannah slowly begins to trust Jesse and realizes he loves her. Truly loves her. But when Jesse feels he must leave in order to provide for Susannah, he learns the hard way that Susannah is stronger than he thought and they can work together to build their homestead.

My only real problem with the book is the physical detail of Jesse and Susannah's relationship. I don't quite know how to share this without sounding negative. I truly enjoyed the story! Jesse and Susannah are married, so the written romance is not really wrong, but I still felt uncomfortable. I guess I feel that what my husband and I share is a special gift from God - something that we are careful not to share publicly with others. I think that writing too much detail cheapens that gift, making it feel less special.

I just think our Christian authors need to be careful. I'm afraid I wouldn't want my daughter - or any unmarried woman - to read it. If I feel uncomfortable sharing a book with my mom or mother-in-law, I think too much detail was given.

Otherwise, Catherine's debut read more like an author who has been published many times. Spring for Susannah was well-written and romantic, combining stories in my imagination like Love Comes Softly, Sarah, Plain and Tall, and Little House.

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Thank you to Catherine, through Amy and the Litfuse Hens, for sending me a copy to read and review!

GIVEAWAY ALERT!!
To celebrate her debut novel, Catherine and her publisher, Thomas Nelson, have teamed up to give away a Spring For Susannah Prize Package worth over $150! One grand prize winner will receive:

* A brand new Latest Generation KINDLE with Wi-Fi and Pearl Screen

* Spring for Susannah by Catherine Richmond (for KINDLE)

Click below to ENTER for your chance to WIN!

Also reviewed on Amazon and Christianbook. Click HERE to see what other bloggers are saying about Spring for Susannah!

Recommend: YES

**Disclaimer: I was given a free product for review purposes only. My reviews are not monetarily compensated and have not been influenced by the sponsor in any way, unless otherwise disclosed. Each review is based on the reactions and opinions of myself and/or family. Post *may* contain affiliate links.**
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Too Rich for a Bride by Mona Hodgson

2011-06-13T13:15:00.000-04:00

I had a very difficult time getting into Too Rich for a Bride. I just couldn’t connect with Ida. Right from the very start, she rubbed me the wrong way.

I’m old fashioned. I don’t have anything wrong with women working or doing well in business, but women with the a-woman-can-do-anything-a-man-can-do-and-probably-better attitude turn me off.

Never good when the main character annoys you. Hard to get past that.

I read Mona’s first book in this series, Two Brides Too Many, quite awhile ago, but couldn’t remember Mollie O’Bryan’s character. This also made me feel lost, as I really wasn’t sure what her ‘business’ was. So…I had no idea what in the world Ida was doing every day.

I just felt like I was forcing myself to turn the next page, and only got about 2/3 of the way through the book.

Just because I struggled to like the main character, doesn’t mean you wouldn’t enjoy Too Rich for a Bride. The book has a nice western feel, along with a likeable landlady, two protective sisters, and two men vying for Ida’s hand – which one is the good guy, bad guy, right guy, wrong guy for her? All the right components for a great story – it just fell flat for me.

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AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:
You can read the first chapter of Too Rich for a Bride HERE.

Thank you to Blogging for Books through Waterbrook Multnomah for sending me a copy to read and review!

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Undaunted Faith by Andrea Boeshaar

2011-05-19T11:00:00.001-04:00

Today, CFBA is introducing Undaunted Faith by Andrea Boeshaar.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

When Pastor Luke McCabe begins paying extra attention to her, Bethany takes his fine-sounding words with a grain of salt. She's heard sweet talk before. This time she is going to keep her mind on the Lord and on her new teaching job in the Arizona Territory.

But when her reputation is accidentally soiled by the rakish town sheriff, Luke steps in with a marriage proposal to save Bethany's good name. Luke is certain their marriage is God's will...but Bethany is just as certain God must have someone else in mind to be Luke's wife.

Someone sweet and spiritual, who knows the Scriptures better than Bethany does. Someone like Luke's old friend from home.

MY THOUGHTS:

Despite the many, many books I read, something unusual has occurred:

An author has caught my eye.

Undaunted Faith, number 4 in the Seasons of Redemption series, is the first book I’ve read of Andrea Boeshaar.

Not only was the plot rich and enjoyable, but Andrea also used scripture appropriately throughout the book, something sorely lacking in many Christian fiction books.

Although I read book 4 before the others in the series, Undaunted Faith could be read alone (or at least I didn’t feel confused or left out of previous storylines). However, I am anxious to read the first 3 books so that I can discover the other stories of several of the mentioned characters.

Andrea Boeshaar is definitely a new-to-me author that I’ll be trying again.

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AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:

Go HERE to read the first chapter of book 4 in Andrea Boeshaar's Seasons of Redemption series, Undaunted Faith.

Thank you to Andrea and Realms, through CFBA, for sending me a review copy of Undaunted Faith!

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Secrets of the Heart by Jillian Kent

2011-05-19T00:01:00.001-04:00

Today's featured author from FIRST blog tours is:

Jillian Kent

and the book:

Secrets of the Heart

Realms (May 3, 2011)

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Madeline Whittington, daughter of the deceased Earl of Richfield, emerges from English society’s prescribed period of mourning in the winter of 1817. Madeline believes that she no longer belongs in a world of gossip and gowns after experiencing multiple losses. When she rescues a runaway from Ashcroft Insane Asylum, her life will be forever changed as she discovers the dark secrets within the asylum walls.

Because of his elder brother’s unexpected death, Devlin Greyson becomes Earl of Ravensmoore and struggles between two worlds: one of affluence and privilege and one of poverty and disease. Torn between his desire to become a doctor and the numerous responsibilities of his title, he wrestles with God’s calling for his future.

Will he be able to honor this God-given gift and win the woman he falls in love with in a society that does not value gentlemen who work? And will Lady Madeline be able to honor her father’s memory when she is attracted to the man she holds responsible for her father’s death?

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Realms (May 3, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 161638185X
ISBN-13: 978-1616381851

MY THOUGHTS:

I remember seeing an old black and white movie years and years ago, but I can’t remember its name. (Mom, maybe you’d remember??) I vividly recall a woman in a dark, gloomy insane asylum, seemingly lost, surrounded by laughing, crying, screaming, swaying people. I believe she was put there under false accusations, but was so ‘out of it’ that she couldn’t say she wasn’t supposed to be there.

I imagined this movie scene over and over again while reading Secrets of the Heart.

Jillian brings to light the misunderstandings and mistreatment of depression, anxiety, and other mental disorders suffered by people in the Regency era. It was sad and yet fascinating at the same time.

Several times in the first few chapters, I thought the writing was disjointed a bit. I even flipped back pages to see if I’d missed something. I hadn’t, so I just shook my head and continued.

As the story progressed, however, the writing flowed smoother, and the plot kept me engrossed. Secrets of the Heart gives readers an ample amount of suspense and mystery delivered with Regency flair.

I liked it.

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AND FOR YOU, a peek into the book:

Prologue

Yorkshire, England, 1817

Who’s there?” Lady Madeline Whittington reined her horse in and listened. She looked into the dense, wooded edge of the forest of Richfield, her family home. “Did you hear something, Shakespeare?” She petted her gelding’s neck. The horse’s ears pricked forward. She studied the fading sun. Darkness would close in soon. It would be unwise to tarry over long. The forest edges, thick with bare brambles now, would become heavy with foliage in the next few months. If she was fortunate, the blackberries would return. Last year’s winter had been harsh, and she’d had to go without that succulent treat. A shadow flitted from within, causing a branch to tremble. “Come out.” Madeline hardened her voice. “Come out at once.”

Papa had taught her to be firm and bold when encountering the unknown, but also cautious. She reached for the revolver in her pocket wishing she hadn’t sent Donavan, their groomsman, on ahead. But she’d desperately wanted to ride alone for a few short minutes.

Two huge brown eyes in a tear-streaked and muddy face peered between parted branches held back by long slim fingers. Blood trickled from scratches on the girl’s arms and hands.
“Who are you? Why did you not answer me?”

The eyes grew wider.
Madeline’s heart softened along with her voice.

“It’s safe. I won’t hurt you.” She tore a hunk of bread from a leather pouch strapped across her shoulder. “Are you hungry?” She offered a large portion. Crumbs fell.

The girl took a step toward her and bit her lower lip. Bruises colored the young woman’s wrists and ankles, her only covering a torn chemise and ill-fitting shoes with no laces.

“What’s your name? Can you understand me?”

Brown Eyes held out a hand.
“You are hungry. Of course you are. Come closer. I’m going to toss the bread to you. Is that all right?”

The pitiful creature nodded and held out both hands.

She understands me. Madeline aimed and carefully threw the bread.

The silent stranger caught it and stuffed the bounty into her mouth so fast that Madeline feared the girl might choke.

“Will you come with me?” Madeline held out her hand. “You may ride with me.”
Brown Eyes stepped back.

“Don’t go. It’s dangerous. You cannot stay here. I won’t hurt you.”

The girl looked into the woods at the lowering sun and then at Madeline’s outstretched hand. Brown Eyes stepped backward. One step. Two steps.

“Wait.” Madeline unbuttoned her cape. “Take this. It’s far too cold with only a chemise to cover you. You’ll freeze to death.” She threw the long, fur-lined wrap to Brown Eyes.

The girl gathered the offering and backed into the forest, keeping her eyes locked on Madeline’s until she turned and ran.

“No! Wait. Please wait.” Madeline searched for a way through the thicket. Not finding any, she pushed her mount farther north until she found an entry. How could she help this girl without scaring her out of her wits? She found the girl’s path. Darkness chased them.

“Where are you?” Madeline shouted. “It’s too dangerous.”

Shakespeare’s ears pricked forward, and she caught the sound of scurrying ahead and then spotted Brown Eyes. Low-hanging branches attacked Madeline, clawing her with their long-reaching arms as she herded the girl toward a nearby hunting cabin. Minutes

later they broke through the trees and entered a clearing where the outline of a small cabin was silhouetted against the fast-approaching night sky.
Pulling her mount to a stop, Madeline kicked her booted foot out of the stirrup and narrowly avoided catching her skirt on the pommel as she slid to the ground.
“I won’t hurt you,” Madeline called. The girl hesitated and then ran again. Gathering up her skirt, Madeline chased after the girl, grabbing for the cape that trailed behind. She easily caught the girl, who fell to the ground in a heap and rolled into a ball with the cape wrapped around her.

Madeline knelt beside her and spoke gently. “Please don’t run. I’m not going to take the cape from you. It’s yours. A gift.”

Brown Eyes panted with fear.
“It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help.” Madeline patted the girl’s shoulder.

She flinched.
“I’m sorry you are afraid. I want you to stay here. See the cabin? You can stay here.”
The girl peeked out from behind the cape, her ragged breathing easing from the chase through the woods. She looked at the cabin and then at Madeline.

“I know you’ve suffered something horrid. Come. You’ll be safe here. Trust me.” Madeline stood and offered a hand up.

Brown Eyes took her hand and followed her into the cabin.

One
Each one sees what he carries in his heart.

—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Have you ever made a mistake?” Madeline settled into her saddle, avoiding her friend’s probing gaze. Anxiety rippled through her as she stroked the neck of her large bay gelding while they waited for the hunting horn to sound.
“Not to my recollection.” Lady Gilling gathered her reins. “I’m quite good at avoiding them.”
“I shouldn’t have come.” Madeline’s gloved hands trembled. “I hate hunting.” She’d tried to avoid the ride today. She wanted to visit her brown-eyed fugitive, and she’d been unable to take food to the girl this morning because of the hunt. Mother had insisted she rejoin society this morning, and she’d enlisted her best friend Hally, Lady Gilling, to be certain that she rode today.

“You used to love the hunt.” Hally circled her dappled gray mare around Madeline’s horse, inspecting Madeline as though she were about to enter the ballroom instead of the final hunt of the season.

Madeline shook her head. “You’re wrong. I love riding, not hunting.”

“Perhaps. However, at one and twenty, you are far too young to give up on this world. And even though I’m only two years your elder, I’ve had my sorrows too, and I have found ways to battle the pain. You must do the same.”
“I’m sorry, Hally.” The heat of shame spiraled into her cheeks despite the sting of the cold, early spring air. She thought of her brother and sister who had died during the past two years and of Papa who had joined them last year. What could be worse—losing

siblings and a parent or a beloved husband, as Hally had only two years ago?
Madeline’s horse pranced in rhythm to her rising anxiety. “Easy, Shakespeare. Easy, boy.” She tried to focus on the gathering outside Lord Selby’s manor house where horses and riders crowded together in a flurry of anticipation. She took a deep breath to rein

in her frustration and hoped her mount would settle down along with her. “Hally, you pick the most difficult of times to discuss such personal issues.”
Hally edged her mount next to Madeline’s horse. “I do this because you have been in hiding ever since your father died. If you refuse to mix in polite society, they will refuse you.”

“Have I become a ghost?” Mist floated over the fetlocks on her horse, a dreamlike ground covering that made it seem like they waited in the clouds. “Do you not see me?” She wanted to slip away from this show of rejoining society. She wanted to check on the girl. She wanted to leave. “Does society not see me here today?”

“For the first time in a year at the hunt.” Hally reached over and pushed back the netted veil that covered Madeline’s face, tucking the material into her hat. “There, that’s much better. Now everyone can see you.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” She reached up to pull the veil back into place, but Hally stopped her.

“Your mother worries, Maddie. Since your father died, you have refused to mingle, you have refused to travel, and until today you have refused to ride with the hunt. Your father would have scolded you for such behavior.”
Madeline’s chin trembled. “That was cruel. I enjoyed the hunt because Papa loved it when I rode with him. He’s gone now. I don’t have to hunt to ride.”
Hally lowered her voice. “I’m sorry. I know you miss him, but society’s prescribed period of mourning is quite enough. I’ve always believed six months far too long, and here you are six months after that. You need not suffer further isolation.” She leaned closer and whispered. “For heaven’s sake, Maddie, your mother is out of mourning.”

“I’m afraid she thinks of allowing Lord Vale to court her.” There, she’d said it aloud. “May God forgive her. She dishonors Papa’s memory.”
“So that is what worries you. Your mother is interested in a man.”

“He’s not just a man, Hally. He’s Lord Vale, and there’s much speculation about his actions and investments. Yet here I am, pretending all is well.” Madeline lifted her chin and watched her breath dissipate like puffs of smoke on the wind.

“Pretending is a fine art.” Hally smiled. “Everyone must pretend to some extent, dear, or life would be far too complicated.”

“I wonder where life will lead now. Mother isn’t thinking clearly and allows Vale too much time with her at Richfield. I no longer know where I belong, but certainly not in this world of gossip and gowns.”

“We will discuss your fears later, my dear. But for now, your mention of gowns is a subject that warrants further consideration. I think it is time we turn our thoughts toward lighter matters, and talk of fashion will do nicely.”
“Fashion?” Madeline scrunched up her nose. “Please tell me you jest.”

“Fashion is always important.” Hally tilted her head in thoughtful study. “Your black wool riding habit does nothing to draw attention. Green would set your hazel eyes ablaze or, at the very least, a lush russet to show off the highlights in your hair.”

“Why does this matter so much to you?” For the first time that day, Madeline studied her friend in turn. A dark lavender velvet riding habit enhanced her figure. The fabric against the gray of her horse together with the soft early morning light provided Hally with an air of regal confidence, confidence Madeline envied. She was already looking forward to the end of this event.
“Because you are my friend, and melancholia does not become you.”

“Nonsense. I used that emotion up long ago.”

“So you say.” Hally scanned the area. “The chill has bestowed you with blushing cheeks, a most charming quality that will endear you to the male population. There are some very eligible and very handsome gentlemen here today. I shall be most pleased to make an introduction.”

Tentacles of panic snaked through her. “I don’t believe that is required today.” Nor any other day. The thought of an introduction to a gentleman terrified her. She’d witnessed Mother’s agony when she’d lost her children and then her beloved husband. Why allow the heart such vulnerability to begin with? “Really, Hally. Do you never grow weary of your matchmaking schemes? Do you not find such things awkward?”

“My James was a rare man. I’ll never stop missing him . . . and the children we might have enjoyed. I want you to experience that kind of love, Maddie.”
Sorrow shadowed Hally’s blue-green eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so selfish.” The last thing she had wanted to do was cause more heartache.
Hally waved a dismissive hand. “It’s all about love, dearest. Don’t forget that.”
“But love is—”
“Necessary. Not awkward. You must accept that. You missed your London season four years ago. I know many at this event. As a respectable widow I can be a great help.”
Madeline didn’t argue. “I appreciate your concern.” She hoped to get through the hunt and the social gathering unscathed by men and their unwanted advances. The gathering after the hunt could prove to be difficult. Many men would drink, and some would drink too much, making themselves perfectly obnoxious. “Perhaps we can just ride today and think on these matters another time.”
“Forgive me, dear. I’m overzealous when it comes to you. I will not speak of opportunities again this day. But I pray you’ll think about what you are doing, think about your future, think about your life. If you continue to hide yourself away, you will not be accepted by polite society. And since your mother is ready to begin living again, should you not as well?”
The budding tree branches swayed gently in the early morning breeze and, bending toward her, seemed to hesitate on the wind, awaiting her reply. “I am in no mood to meet anyone.”

“We’ll speak of your moods later.” Hally smiled. “Let’s enjoy the present.”
Bright streaks of sunlight burst through the cloudy, late March sky. Madeline contemplated her friend’s advice. “You’re right. It’s a beautiful morning. Time to imagine the future. As for now, I’m just not certain how to proceed.”
Hally reached across her mare and patted Madeline’s hand. “I’ll be happy to show you the way.”
Lord Selby’s raucous laughter roared through the crowd as he muscled his way through with his horse. Another rider crashed into her while trying to get out of Selby’s way, causing Madeline’s mount to lurch sideways into Hally, nearly unseating each of them.

Madeline’s breath caught, but she quickly tightened her reins and gained control.
“Easy, Shakespeare. It’s all right, boy.” She stroked the gelding’s neck to calm him and looked to see if the other rider had recovered his balance.
A pair of green eyes, wide with concern, locked on her. The beginning of a smile dimpled the man’s cheeks. A strong chin, straight nose, and clean-shaven face provided him with the good looks of a gentleman in a Van Dyck portrait. She felt the heat of a sudden blush and, not trusting her voice, held her tongue.
Apology etched his handsome face. “I beg your forgiveness.” He arched a single black brow. “Are either of you hurt?”

Madeline sucked in a deep breath to calm her nerves and brushed her skirt free of imaginary grime. “I am unscathed, sir,” she assured him, pulling her gaze away. “Lady Gilling?”

“No injuries here.” She pushed her purple plumed hat back into place.

Madeline turned back to him. The sudden urge to chuckle surprised her, but instead of laughing, she molded herself into a woman of politeness and poise. “It appears that we have survived the excitement.”

“I’m afraid Lord Selby is already in his cups this fine morning.” The charming stranger maneuvered his mount closer and lowered his voice. “Hippocrates here found Selby’s bellowing objectionable.” His smile radiated genuine warmth. “I must concur with his animal instinct.”

The blare of the hunting horn filled the air. The fine gentleman tipped his hat and disappeared into the crush of riders. A twinge of disappointment tugged at Madeline’s heart.

“Are you certain you are unharmed?” Hally asked as they trotted their horses out of the gate. “You look a bit pale.”

“I can’t help but think I’ve seen that man somewhere before.

Does he look familiar to you?” Madeline searched for him as they rode out.

“No. I don’t believe so. Could it be that you just met a gentleman of importance with no introduction from me at all?”

“Strange. I can’t recall where, but I’m almost certain.”

“The hounds are on the move,” Hally said. “We must discuss your newly made acquaintance later. We’re off!”

The baying hounds drowned out the possibility of further discussion. A glimmer of anticipation lightened Madeline’s heart. The challenge of the ride distracted her from other concerns and strengthened her spirit. Perhaps I have been a bit melancholy of late.

Her worries lessened with each stride of her horse and with each obstacle cleared, but flashes of the past whirred by her as swiftly as the hunting field. The horses in front of her threw clumps of dirt into the air as they pounded across the countryside in pursuit of a fox she hoped would evade them.
A pheasant burst from its nest. Startled, Shakespeare faltered as he launched toward the next stone wall. Madeline leaned far forward and gave him extra rein in an attempt to help him clear the barrier, but she knew immediately he was off stride.
The crack of rear hooves against the top of the wall thundered through her heart. Shakespeare stumbled and went down on his knees, tossing her over his head. Madeline landed with a jarring thud on her left side. She struggled to get up, but racking pain paralyzed any attempt at movement.

“Maddie!” Hally dismounted, ran to Madeline, and knelt at her side.

She rolled onto her back and groaned. A fine mess. “Shakespeare? Is he hurt?”
“Are you all right?” Hally clutched Madeline’s hand in her own. “Maddie?”
She lay still, trying to assess the damage. “I believe I may have broken my arm.” Tears stung her eyes. “Where’s Shakespeare?” She prayed he bore no serious injuries.
A shadow fell over Madeline. “I’ve already looked at him. He’s shaken, temporarily lame, but on his feet. He will be taken to Selby’s stables to begin the healing process. Unlike your horse, young lady, I suggest you not move.”
The gentleman had returned. And here she lay, flat on her back, her riding skirt disheveled, an indelicate position, indeed. She did not need a man now, especially this very interesting man.

She squeezed Hally’s hand. “I’m not presentable,” she whispered.

“This is hardly the time to be concerned about one’s appearance,” Hally whispered back, smoothing Madeline’s skirt down toward her ankles, a gesture that reminded Madeline of her maid making the bed. She’d have laughed if she weren’t completely mortified and on the verge of fainting. Her arm felt like glass under pressure, about to shatter.

“You took quite a tumble.” He dropped to his knees. “May I be of assistance?”
Madeline tried to sit up again, determined not to appear weak.She prided herself on her independence and strength, but her body rebelled and collapsed as if she were a marionette whose strings had suddenly been severed. “Who are you, sir?”
“I’m Devlin Grayson of Ravensmoore. Where does it hurt?”

“My arm.” Madeline gingerly cradled her left arm and tried to blink back the tears. “You’re Lord Ravensmoore?”

He nodded.
She felt suddenly vulnerable, looking into this stranger’s intense gaze. “I couldn’t prevent it.”

“Lie still, please.”
“Everything happened so fast. It’s been so long since I’ve been on the hunt field,” Madeline said, embarrassed. “Poor Shakespeare. I hope he’s not hurt. I’m such a fool.”

“You are no fool. This could happen to anyone. And your horse appears to be recovering from the shock. A fine horse. And you have given him a fine name.”
She gazed up into his caring green eyes. “Thank you.”

“May I ask your name before I examine you? That is, if I have your permission?”
She found it difficult to concentrate. “Lady Madeline Whittington.” Her head throbbed. “Examine me? Are you a doctor? No, that wouldn’t be right, would it? Not if you’re Ravensmoore.”

“I will be soon.”
Fleeting thoughts of Papa suffering in the hospital filled her mind with fear and anger. The doctors had not helped him. He had died under their care. The slightest of remembrances bubbled to the surface of her thoughts. She turned her face away from him and looked at Hally.

“Lady Madeline,” Hally pleaded, glancing across at Ravensmoore. “He is offering you his medical skills.”

Madeline turned back and looked him in the eye, trying to catch the elusive memory. Where had she seen him before? “Something is not right.” The memories, one after another, tumbled into her consciousness and revealed themselves as they broke through her defenses and exploded into the present. “I remember you.”
“Remember me?” He paused and studied her, searching her face for details, some recollection of the past.

“You were at the Guardian Gate when we took my father to the hospital.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You killed him.”

Ravensmoore paled. “What do you mean?”

“Lady Madeline! What an unkind thing to say.” Hally looked at Ravensmoore. “She must have hit her head. Maddie, have you lost all reason?”

“My father, Lord Richfield, bled to death because of your ineptness.” A ripple of pain burst up her arm.

“Lady Madeline—of Richfield?” he asked, turning a shade paler. “Your father? I . . . I do remember. I’m very sorry.”

Hally gently touched Madeline’s cheek and wiped away a tear. “He is only trying to help you.”
“I don’t want his help.”
“I assure you, madam, I am not a murderer. I am most sympathetic to your loss. I promise to be gentle.”

“A fine promise,” she scoffed. “But I have no confidence in your abilities, sir. It is regrettable, but it is the truth.”

He pressed on. “The bone might be broken.”

“I do not need your attention,” Madeline snapped. “It’s most unnecessary.”
A pulse throbbed at his temple. “You don’t understand.” He recovered his composure. “If you refuse to let me examine you, then I must insist on escorting you to Lord Selby’s home where you can rest.”

Madeline groaned in frustration. “I refuse to return to that man’s home. He’s drunk.” The two of them outnumbered her. “I want to go home.” She allowed them to assist her to a sitting position.

“She accepts your kind offer, sir,” Hally put in.

“Lean against me, Lady Madeline, until we see if you can stand,” Ravensmoore said.
“I appear to have little choice.”

Ravensmoore put his arm around her waist and gently guided her to her feet. The strength of his body proved to be an unexpected comfort.

“That’s it. Keep your left arm pressed against your side,” he instructed.
The last thing she wanted to do was lean against this man who dredged up bitter memories of Papa’s death. “I’m fine, really,” she lied, in hope of escaping him. Her body betrayed her in a sudden burst of pain that forced her to stiffen. She repressed a moan and

fought to keep her balance. Emotions from the past and present collided in a haze of confusion.
Madeline pushed away from him. “Lady Gilling will assist me.” She held her hand out and stumbled. Ravensmoore caught her.

“And you will pull your friend to the ground with you.”

How could she have considered this man attractive? The thought made no sense now that she had put the pieces together. Yet, he seemed kind, not at all how she remembered him, wearing that horrible blood-spattered apron. Her father’s blood. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to ward off the image. “I don’t want your help,” she said through clenched teeth. “I can ride by myself.”

“You’re not strong enough. I’ll take you home.” Ravensmoore skillfully lifted her in his arms, careful to keep her injured arm protected. “You’ll ride with me.”
Madeline sat in front of Ravensmoore for the ride home. She tried not to lean against his chest for support but found the effort impossible. She’d never been so close to a man, his breath kissing her cheek. She straightened and had to smother a moan of agony when pain radiated through her arm.
When the high stone walls of Richfield came into view Madeline sighed in relief, grateful to be close to home. The great manor house spread before them, the additional wings on either side providing a sense of comfort and safety. A maze of hedges to the left of them and the soon-to-be-blooming gardens magnified the opulence of Richfield. To the right of the edifice stood stables and paddocks for the horses and housing for those who tended them.
Madeline swallowed hard. She’d just returned home with the man who’d killed her father, the man she held responsible for her father’s death. Betrayal weighed heavy on her heart, for this is where Papa had loved and raised his family.
Madeline longed to be in her bed as they drew near the entrance. She vowed to escape from this horrid day and to her room as fast as she could manage.
“Are you ready?” Ravensmoore asked.

Startled from her pain-filled thoughts she said, “Yes.” But that was a lie. Madeline’s head throbbed simultaneously with the beating of her pulse. She fought for control and blinked back tears when the three of them reached the steps leading into the arched entrance. She nearly crumpled when Ravensmoore dismounted, and she clung desperately to the pommel of the saddle. He reached for her. “It’s all right. I’ll help you.”
“There is no need to coddle me, sir. I assure you, once again, that I am perfectly able.”
“Excellent! Then this should not be too difficult for you.”

Madeline fell into his arms, light-headed and shaky. She wobbled when her feet touched the ground. He held her, keeping her safe.

“Allow me to carry you, Lady Madeline.”

Pain sliced through her arm from the jolting ride. “There’s nothing wrong with my legs, sir. I can walk.” She took two steps and swayed precariously.
“I think not.” Ignoring her protests, Ravensmoore scooped her into his arms again. His warmth and scent—spice, leather, and sweat—mingled together in a balm for her pain.

Her mother, Grace, the Countess of Richfield, ran down the steps to meet them. “Madeline, you’re hurt!” Her mother placed a hand on Madeline’s cheek. “What happened?”
Madeline bit her lip, trying not to reveal the depth of her pain. “It’s nothing, Mother. I took a spill off Shakespeare.” She would not be the cause of further anguish. Mother’s grief over the past two years had been more than many tolerated during a lifetime.

“She’ll be fine, Countess,” Hally said. “We’ve brought a doctor with us.”
“A doctor? Thank God. Follow me, sir.”

Now, beyond caring, she laid her head on his shoulder. Once again his breath whispered past her cheek as he took the stairs and delivered her safely into the embrace of her home.

“Phineas, bring some willow bark tea,” Grace instructed the butler. “Bring her into the sitting room, sir.” The countess continued her directions while fussing over Madeline. “The settee will do nicely. That’s it, gently.”
Ravensmoore’s hand lingered a moment on hers as Madeline sank gratefully into the plush green velvet cushions. Surely the man would leave her in peace now.
Her mother pushed back the gold damask draperies, and muted light filled the room. A fire burned in the hearth, and Madeline shivered, perhaps from the lack of the body warmth she had shared with her rescuer on the ride home.
The butler returned with a pot of tea. He poured the hot liquid into a rose-patterned cup and cautiously handed it to her. “There you are, Lady Madeline.”
“Thank you, Phineas.” Steam rose from the cup. Madeline watched her mother. “Please don’t worry so. It’s not serious.”

Ravensmoore knelt beside her. “I recommend you take a swallow of that tea as soon as you can.”
“Sir, your services are no longer needed. And I will drink my tea when I am good and ready, thank you very much.” Madeline spoke more curtly than she’d intended, but she longed to be alone.

“Drink the tea, young lady,” Mother ordered. “The willow bark will help you relax and ease your pain. And you will permit the doctor to examine you. Do not argue with me on this matter.”

“But Mother, you don’t understand. He—”

She touched her daughter’s hand and their eyes met. “I understand enough.” She turned to Ravensmoore. “What can we do, sir?”

“Allow her to rest a few moments. Then remove her riding jacket so I may examine her arm. Is there a place where I might wash up?

I must have left my gloves on the field, and I don’t want to cause further distress by smudging a lady’s clothing.”

“Of course. Phineas will show you the way.”

As soon as he’d left the room, Madeline looked at her mother. “Let me explain. You must know that he”—she pointed in the direction he’d just gone with cup in hand—“was the physician-in training who allowed Papa to bleed to death in York.”

“I didn’t recognize him.” A veil of sadness shrouded her mother’s eyes. “I didn’t think to see any of them again.” Even the worry lines that creased her mother’s brow could not diminish the sculpted features of a woman who resembled a Greek goddess, though she seemed utterly unaware of her beauty. The name Grace suited her.

“He’s not a doctor . . . yet.”

Grace plucked a pair of shears from a nearby sewing basket. “You have made that perfectly clear. Now, allow Lady Gilling and me to cut away your jacket. You might have broken your arm, and there’s no point in causing you any more pain.”
“You still want him to examine me?”

“Of course. I must think of your welfare. The past is the past.”

“But—”
“He may be able to help you. It will take a servant a long time to ride into town, locate a physician, and return with him. Let this doctor help you.”
Madeline looked from one to the other, then handed Hally the teacup. “Do be careful.”
“Of course we’ll be careful, dear.” Grace cut away the jacket in moments.

“Oh, Maddie. I’m so sorry this happened.” Hally handed her the teacup again. “It’s entirely my fault.”

“That is not true.” Madeline finished the tea. “Don’t be silly.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I am quite dizzy.”

Thank you to Jillian and Charisma Media, through FIRST, for sending me a copy to read and review.

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