Saturday, November 21, 2009

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!


Today's Wild Card authors are:


and the book:


Love Finds You In Lonesome Prairie, Montana

Summerside Press (December 1, 2009)

***Special thanks to Amy Lathrop of LitFUSE Publicity Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:




Tricia Goyer was named Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference "Writer of the Year" in 2003. Her book Night Song won Book of the Year from ACFW in the Long Historical Fiction category. Her book Life Interrupted: The Scoop On Being a Young Mom was a Gold Medallion Finalist. Tricia has written hundreds of articles, Bible Study notes, and both fiction and non-fiction books.

Visit the author's website.



Ocieanna Fleissis a published writer and has edited six of Tricia Goyer's historical novels. She lives with her husband and their four children in the Seattle area. Connect with Ocieanna on Facebook!



Product Details:

List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 320 pages
Publisher: Summerside Press (December 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1935416294
ISBN-13: 978-1935416296

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


The sound of little girls’ voices and the sight of the sun streaming through the tall, second-story window of the Open Door Home for Destitute Girls, a privately owned orphanage on upper Manhattan, told nineteen-year-old Julia Cavanaugh that the day had started without her. Julia, an orphan herself, now running the place for the owner, brushed a strand of dark hair from her eyes. She submitted to a second yawn as a twelve-year-old girl hopped onto her bed.

“He’s gonna ask her to marry him, don’t you think, Miss Cavanaugh?”

“Oh, Shelby.” Julia wiped the sleep from her eyes and smiled into the freckled face staring eagerly at her. “Give me a moment to wake before you go asking such things.” Julia stroked the girl’s cheek, her heart seeming to double within her chest with love for the youngster.

The embroidery sampler she’d fallen asleep working on still lay at the end of her bed. She picked it up and eyed the image of a small house she’d copied from Godey’s Lady’s Book. Above the house, she’d stitched the words Home Sweet Home in fancy script. Gazing around the broad room lined with small metal cots and bustling with little-girl chatter, Julia noted the embroidered pillowslips, carefully pressed—albeit dingy—curtains, and dandelions smiling from scavenged jam-jar vases. She’d done her best to make the room pleasant for the girls—and herself. She glanced at their faces and smiled, gladly embracing her role as caretaker.

A less-than-subtle “ahem” from Shelby reminded Julia she’d been asked a question. She glanced at her young charge, still perched on the end of her bed. “What did you ask?”

“Finally.” Shelby eyed her with mock frustration. “I said, do you think they will get married—Mrs. Hamlin and Mr. Gaffin? Haven’t you noticed the way they look at each other?” Shelby’s cheeks hinted of red. Her golden hair was already fixed in a proper bun, her hands and face washed, and her simple dress clean and pressed despite its patches and stray threads.

“Shelby Bruce.” Julia shook her head, as Shelby’s two-year-old sister Beatrice wiggled onto Julia’s lap with a squeal. Julia planted a firm kiss on the top of Bea’s head.

“Married? I don’t think so,” Julia continued. “Mrs. Hamlin would’ve told us—told me—if she was being courted. Mr. Gaffin’s just an old family friend.” Julia wondered where on earth the girl got the notion that their headmistress wished to marry.

Although they have been spending a lot of time together. Julia pushed the thought out of her mind as little Bea shuffled to a stand, planting her pint-sized feet on Julia’s thighs. “Fammy fend!” She pointed a chubby finger at her older sister, Shelby.

“All right, Bea.” Julia plopped the toddler on the floor and swiveled her toward the small bed she shared with Shelby. “Time to straighten your bed.” Then Julia eyed the twins. “Charity, Grace, would you two virtuous girls fetch fresh water for the basin?”

Shelby pushed away from the bed, wrinkled her brow, and thrust her hand behind her as if to support her back—a perfect imitation of their middle-aged headmistress. “Now where did I put my spectacles?” Shelby clucked her tongue as she waddled forward.

Laughter spilled from the lips of the girls around the room. Encouraged, Shelby scratched her head. She plopped down on her bed then hopped up again as if surprised, pulling imaginary spectacles from under her rump. “Oh!” she squealed. “There they are.”

The laughter grew louder, and Julia pursed her lips together to smother the impulse to laugh along with them. She planted her fists on her hips. “That’s enough. All of you know what must be done before breakfast.” The girls’ laughter quieted to soft giggles hidden behind cupped palms as they scattered to do their chores.

Shelby lingered behind, her form now straight and her eyes pensive. “Maybe she forgot to tell you, Miss Cavanaugh.” The young girl gazed up at her. “The way they look at each other—it’s like my ma and pa used to, that’s all.”

Julia folded a stray sandy blond curl behind the girl’s ear. “Don’t worry, my sweet. If Mrs. Hamlin was getting married, we’d be the first to know.”

Julia hoped her own gaze didn’t reflect the sinking disquiet that draped her. Mr. Gaffin was a rich world traveler. If there was any truth to Shelby’s suspicion, Julia couldn’t imagine he’d let Mrs. Hamlin continue to work with orphans. Perhaps they’d get a new headmistress.

Or maybe the girls would be separated, moved to new homes…

If Mrs. Hamlin got married, all their lives would be radically changed. And if Julia had to leave the orphanage, she had no idea what she would do. Julia swept that painful thought away and steadied her gaze at Shelby. She couldn’t hide her true feelings from this girl. Julia took Shelby’s hand and answered as honestly as she could.

“I don’t think she’ll get married, but if she does, God will take care of us, like He always has.” Julia lifted her chin in a smile. “And really, Mrs. Hamlin may be forgetful, but no one could forget that. I sure wouldn’t.”

Ardy, a shy Swedish girl, removed her dirty sheets from a small bed and then approached, taking Julia’s hand. “Don’t ya think you’ll ever be gettin’ married?”

“Actually, there is something I’ve been wanting to tell you all….” Julia leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees.

The two girls eyed each other in surprise, and Shelby’s brow furrowed.

“Come closer.” Julia curled a finger, bidding them.

“What is it?” Shelby asked, her eyes glued to Julia.

The girls leaned in. “I’d like to tell you…that there’s a wonderful man who’s asked me to marry him!”

The squeals of two girls erupted, followed by the cheers of nearly three dozen others who’d been quietly listening from the stairwell.

“There is?” Shelby reached forward and squeezed Julia’s hand.

Julia let out a hefty sigh and giggled. “No, you sillies. Well, at least not yet. Someday. Maybe.”

Shelby pouted “But you said… ”

“I said I’d like to tell you I had a man. I’d sure like to, but of course since I don’t, I’m happy to stay here with all of you.”

The girls moaned.

The squeak of the front door down on the first floor of the Revolutionary War–era home-turned-orphanage drew their attention. They waited as Mrs. Hamlin’s familiar chortle filled the air, along with a bash and clang of items—hopefully food and supplies that she’d picked up.

“Julia!” Mrs. Hamlin yelped. “Julia, dear, where are you?”

“Coming.” Julia hurried down the stairs to help the older woman.

Julia neared the bottom of the steps and paused, trying to stifle a laugh at the sight of the twinkly-eyed woman sprawled flat on her back. Scattered boxes and bags covered the donated rug.

“Mrs. Hamlin! What on earth? Why didn’t you get a steward to help you?”

“Oh, I didn’t want to be a bother.” She cheerfully picked herself up. “I was in such a hurry to show you all what I’d bought. And to tell you my surprise. Such a wonderful surprise.” Julia eyed the boxes and noted they were from R.H. Macy & Co. More than a dozen boxes waited to be opened, and she couldn’t imagine the cost.

“I found just what the girls need, and on sale!” the headmistress exclaimed.

What they need is more food—vitamin drops, too—and maybe a few new schoolbooks. But Julia didn’t dare say it. And somehow God’s hand of providence always provided.

“New clothes, I gather. That is a surprise.”

“But only half of it, dear.” Mrs. Hamlin rubbed her palms expectantly. “I also must tell you my news. The best news an old widow could hope for.”

Julia followed Mrs. Hamlin’s gaze toward the idle youngsters who’d gathered on the staircase to watch. Her eyes locked with Shelby’s, then she quickly looked away. “News?” The muscles in Julia’s stomach tightened.

“Girls,” Julia shooed them away with a wave of her hand, “you know better than to eavesdrop. Off to chores with you. We’ll have breakfast soon.”

The girls started to scurry off, but Mrs. Hamlin halted them with her words.

“No, no,” her high-pitched voice hailed. “Come back. This news is for all of you.” They circled around her, and she tenderly patted their bobbing heads.

“What is it?” Julia wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Mrs. Hamlin’s cheeks so rosy or her eyes so bright.

“I’m getting married!”

My Review - Love Finds you in Lonesome Prairie Montana

LOVE FINDS YOU IN LONESOME PRAIRIE MONTANA, part of the Love finds you series, was a sweet story with a sweet heroine. Julia Cavanaugh finds herself accompanying the orphan girls she has raised as they find new homes and new families in the West. Once arriving in Lonesome Prairie, Julia finds not only has Mrs. Hamlin, the mistress she works for, arranged for the placement of these orphans, but she has also taken it upon herself to arrange for Julia to marry a local miner. Julia is aghast at the idea and does all she can to stop the Horace’s pursuing ways while struggling with leaving her little ones in the care of others. But soon, Julia finds that Lonesome Prairie isn’t that bad . . . either is Parson Ike. She struggles with her infatuation for a man that shows no interested in her at all. But somehow, it is him who fills her daydreams.

Parson Ike, or Isaac has more than noticed Julia, but has vowed to stay single so he can continue to put all his efforts in his position as a circuit riding pastor. He’s made his mind up to remain single, but is having a hard time convincing his heart.

LOVE FINDS YOU IN LONESOME PRAIRIE MONTANA, is a simple story of love, family, sacrifice, and devotion. It’s a quiet story in that there are no rustlers, shootouts, or high drama at every turn. Though the outcome of Mabelina’s trial brings some suspense, the rest of the story seems to unfold at a carefree pace. I am not a fan of love story’s that keep the hero and heroine apart for the majority of the story. True, absences makes the heart grow fonder, but I would prefer to see these characters discover and develop a relationship with each other in something other than their thoughts and dreams.

Friday, November 06, 2009

THE BRIDE BACKFIRE by Kelly Eileen Hake is an enjoyable historical with touches of humor and plenty of drama.

Opal Speck wants nothing more than to prevent bloodshed and hold off the feud that has plagued the Specks and the Grogans for generations. When Adam Grogan crosses territorial lines, the Speck men are looking for revenge. But Opal, cannot allowed Adam – the man that saved her life two years ago–to be the victim of the ridiculous feud. She knows of only one way to save him . . . tell her family that she is carrying Adam’s child.

What follows is a shotgun wedding, vindictive threats, a well kept secret, and the possibility of love to bloom between two families of hatred.

I enjoyed THE BRIDE BACKFIRE, but the pulling and tugging between Adam and Opal got a bit tiresome over time. Midge – Opal’s best friend added a good dimension to the story, and of course, Mrs. Grogan was every daughter-in-law’s nightmare. Overall, a good story that reads at a casual pace.

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!


Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:


The Bride Backfire

Barbour Publishing, Inc (October 1, 2009)

***Special thanks to Angie Brillhart of Barbour Books for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Kelly Eileen Hake is a reader favorite of Barbour Publishing’s Heartsong Presents book club, where she has released several books. A credentialed secondary English teacher in California, she also has her MA in Writing Popular Fiction. Known for her own style of witty, heartwarming historical romance, Kelly is currently writing the Prairie Promises trilogy, her first full-length novels. Hake is a CBA bestselling author and has earned numerous Heartsong Presents Reader’s Choice Awards. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Romance Writers of America.


Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $10.97
Paperback: 288 pages
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc (October 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602601763
ISBN-13: 978-1602601765

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Nebraska Territory, March, 1857


“Not again!” Opal Speck breathed the words on a groan so low her brothers couldn’t hear her—a wasted effort since the entire problem lay in having no one around but Larry Grogan.

Even Larry, despite having the temperament of a riled skunk and a smell to rival one, kept the oily gleam from his eyes when the men of her family were in sight. No, the appraising leers and occasional advances were Opal’s private shame. Hers to handle whenever he tried something, and hers to hide from everyone lest the old feud between their families spring to life once more.

“Figured you’d come by here sooner or later, since Ma and Willa are making dandelion jelly.” Larry levered himself on one elbow, pushing away from the broad rock he’d lounged against. He gestured toward the abundance of newly blooming dandelions bordering Speck and Grogan lands, but his gaze fixed on her as he spoke. “Let’s enjoy the sweetness of spring.”

“No.” Opal kept her voice level though her fingers clamped around the handle of her basket so tightly she could feel the wood bite into her flesh. Letting Larry know he upset her would only give him more power, and false bravery to match. Lord, give me strength and protection. “Not today.”

“Look ripe for the plucking to me.” Larry sauntered closer, but Opal wouldn’t give an inch. Everyone knew that when animals sensed fear, they pressed their advantage.

“Dandelion jelly may be sweet, but it takes a lot of work to make it that way. Do it wrong, it’ll be bitter.”

“I like a little tang.” He reached out and tweaked a stray strand of her red hair as he leaned closer. “Keeps things interesting.”

Opal fought not to wrinkle her nose as his breath washed over her. Instead, she tipped her head back and laughed, the note high and shrill to her ears as she stepped away. “Then I’ll leave them to you, Mr. Grogan.”

“Wait.” His hand snaked out and closed around her wrist, but it was the unexpected note of pleading in his voice that brought her up short. “Won’t you call me Larry?”

“I—” Opal couldn’t have found any words had they been sitting in the strawberry patch. She and Larry both stared at where his hand enfolded her wrist. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“We can’t always be wise.” With a wince, he used his other hand to trace the long, thin scar bisecting his cheek. His hand dropped back to his side when he noticed her watching the motion, but something softened in his face. “You must like me a little, Opal. Otherwise you would’ve left me to die like everyone would expect a Speck to do.”

Not really, no. She didn’t speak the words, her silence stretching thin and strained between them. Larry’s sly innuendos were a threat Opal expected, but Larry Grogan looking as though he cared what she thought of him. . . How could she be prepared for that? Why didn’t I notice his advances only began after his accident—that Larry must have interpreted me helping Dr. Reed patch him up as something more than kindness?

Surprise softened her words when she finally spoke. “I would have helped anyone thrown from the thresher.” Opal’s reference to the incident didn’t need to be more detailed. The man before her would never forget the cause of his scar, just as she’d never forget it was his animosity toward her father that caused him to mess with that machine in the first place.

“Even a Grogan?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

She would’ve backed away at the desperation written on his face if she could, but she summoned all her courage to stay calm. “Believe it, Larry.”

“What if I don’t want to?” His grip turned painful, bruising her arm. “I know you’d do anything to protect your family. Even deny your own feelings.” Larry moved closer. “And I can prove it with one kiss.”

“My family would kill you.” She tried to tug her wrist free, only to have him jerk her closer.

“We both know you wouldn’t tell them.” Darkness danced in his eyes. “This is between you and me.”

Panic shivered down Opal’s spine at the truth of his words. The one thing she could never do was put her family in danger, and if she told Pa or her brothers, blood would flow until there wasn’t a Speck—or a Grogan—left standing. She stayed still as he leaned in, his grip loosening slightly as his other hand grabbed her chin.

“No!” Exploding into action the second she sensed her opportunity, Opal sent a vicious kick to his shins with one work boot. A swift twist freed her wrist from his grasp, letting her shove her basket into his stomach with all her might.

She barely registered the crack of wood splintering as she sprang away, running for home before Larry caught his breath enough to catch her.

***

“Pa ain’t gonna like this.” Nine-year-old Dave poked his head around the stall partition like a nosy weasel sniffing out trouble.

“That’s why you’re not mentioning it to him.” Adam didn’t normally hold with keeping things from one’s father, but telling Diggory Grogan that another one of their milk cows had fallen prey to the strange, listless bloat that had plagued their cattle for the past few years without explanation would be akin to leaving a lit lantern in a hayloft. The resulting blaze would burn more than the contents of the barn.

“But didn’t he say that the next time one of those Specks poisoned one of our cows he was goin’ to march over there an—”

“We don’t know that anyone’s been poisoning our cows, Dave.” Adam pinned his much younger brother with a fierce glower. “But we do know the Specks have had sick cattle, same as us. The last thing either of us needs is to start fighting again.”

Confusion twisted Dave’s features. “When did we ever stop fighting?”

“There’s different kinds of fighting, Squirt.”

“I know!” Dave scrambled after him as Adam left the barn to go find the meanest rooster he could catch. “There’s name-calling and bare-knuckles and knock-down drag-outs and slaps—”

His list came to an abrupt end when Adam rounded on him. “That’s not what I meant.” He squatted down so he could look his little brother in the eye. “There’s fighting for what you believe in, fighting to protect what’s yours, and there’s fighting just because you like fighting. That’s never a good enough reason, understand?”

“Kind of.” Dave squinted up at him when Adam straightened once more. “How come we fight the Specks, then?”

“A mix of all three.” Willa’s voice provided a welcome interruption. “Our granddaddies both thought the east pasture belonged to them. Then each of our families believed the other was wrong, and now we’re so used to fighting that we blame each other when anything goes wrong.”

“Like the cows?” Dave processed their sister’s explanation so fast it made Adam proud.

“Yep.” He didn’t say more as the three of them each chased down a chicken, ignoring the angry squawks and vicious pecks as best they could. When everyone’s arms were loaded down with feathers and flailing spurs, they headed back to the barn.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing Pa and Larry are out hunting today.” Dave spat out a stray feather. “So we can scare some of the bloat out of Clem before he finds out and blames the Specks?”

“That’s right.” Willa set her jaw. “Because no matter what Larry says or how Pa listens, the Specks aren’t poisoning our cows. And the last thing we need is for him to stir things up over nothing!”

That was the last any of them said for a while, as everyone knew it was useless to try to talk over the sounds of a cow belching. Since Dr. Saul Reed had first tried the treatment two years ago on Sadie—when the bloats began—the Grogans had perfected the process to a fine art.

If a cow grew listless, went off her feed, stopped drinking water, and generally gave signs of illness, they watched for signs of bloat. When baking soda didn’t help, the last hope for expelling the buildup of gas before it stopped the animal’s heart was to get it moving at a rapid pace. On the Grogan farm, that meant terrorizing the cattle with riled roosters.

Dave darted toward the stall and thrust his bird toward the back, spurring Clem to her feet for the first time that whole morning. She rushed out of the partition, heading toward a corner plush with hay, only to be headed off by Willa, whose alarmed chicken made an impressive display of thrashing wings to drive the cow out the barn door.

From there it was a matter of chasing her around the barnyard and up the western hill—the theory being that elevating her front end made it easier for the gas to rise out—until the endeavor succeeded or the entire group dropped from exhaustion. Thankfully, they’d yet to fail.

To an outsider, Adam Grogan would be hard-pressed to explain why leading a slobbering, stumbling, belching cow back to the barn would put a smile on his face, but Willa and Dave shared his feeling of triumph. Sure, Clem might not look like much of a prize at the moment, but she’d been hard-won. Better yet, they’d averted having Pa and Larry ride over to the Speck place with fired tempers and loaded shotguns.

Much the way Murphy and Elroy Speck were riding toward them right now. Adam tensed, taking stock of the situation. With Pa and Larry out for the day, it was up to him to take care of things.

“Stay here.” He snatched the shotgun from the wall of the barn and rolled the door closed, pushing Dave back inside when he tried to squirm out. “I said stay. And don’t go up in the hayloft either, or I’ll tan your hide later.” With the door shut, Adam slid the deadbolt in place, effectively locking his sister and younger brother in the barn. . .and hopefully out of trouble.

He strode to meet the Specks, intent on putting as much distance from their stopping place and his family as humanly possible. While Adam didn’t hold with the idea of a feud and did everything in his power to maintain peace, he wouldn’t stake the safety of a single Grogan on any Speck’s intention to do the same.

“Ho.” Murphy Speck easily brought his horse to a halt, followed closely by his second-eldest son. The two of them sat there, shotguns laid across their saddles, silent as they looked down on Adam.

Adam, for his part, rested his firearm over his shoulder, vigilant without being hostile, refusing to offer false welcome. Specks had ventured onto Grogan land; it was for them to state their business. Adam wouldn’t put himself in the weaker position by asking, and only a fool would provoke them by demanding answers.

Good thing Larry’s not here. The stray thought would have earned a smile under any other circumstance.

“Where’s your brother?” Murphy’s gaze slid to toward the corners of his eyes, as though expecting someone to sneak up on him.

Not a good beginning. He sure as shooting wasn’t about to tell two armed Specks he was the only grown Grogan around the place. Adam just raised a brow in wordless recrimination at the older man’s rudeness.

“What Pa means to say,” Elroy’s tone held a tinge of apology, though his stance in the saddle lost none of its steel, “is that Pete’s seen your brother on our land a few times this past week.”

“Oh?” I knew he’d been up to no good when he hadn’t been helping fertilize the fields. Something else stank. Adam’s jaw clenched.

“Some of our cattle have the bloat.” Murphy’s statement held accusation, though his words didn’t. The man walked a fine line.

“Ours, too.” Adam lifted his chin. “Must be a common cause.”

“Common cause or no, seemed maybe a reminder was in order.” Elroy’s level gaze held a deeper meaning.

His father wasn’t half so diplomatic. “The next time a Grogan steps foot on Speck land without express invitation, he won’t be walking away from it.”

Adam ignored the sharp drop in his stomach at the irrefutable proof tensions were wound tight enough to snap. “Good fences make good neighbors.” He gave Speck a curt nod.

“Fences and family, Grogan.” Murphy’s parting words came through loud and clear. “Watch yours a bit closer.”