Friday, January 30, 2009

Excerpt and giveaway - GATEKEEPERS by Robert Liparulo

This week, the

Christian Fiction Blog Alliance

is introducing

Gatekeepers
(Dreamhouse Kings #3)

Thomas Nelson (January 6, 2009)

by

Robert Liparulo

Camy here: I’m giving this book away on the Girls, God, and the Good Life blog.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Robert is an award-winning author of over a thousand published articles and short stories. He is currently a contributing editor for New Man magazine. His work has appeared in Reader's Digest, Travel & Leisure, Modern Bride, Consumers Digest, Chief Executive, and The Arizona Daily Star, among other publications. In addition, he previously worked as a celebrity journalist, interviewing Stephen King, Tom Clancy, Charlton Heston, and others for magazines such as Rocky Road, Preview, and L.A. Weekly.

Robert is an avid scuba diver, swimmer, reader, traveler, and a law enforcement and military enthusiast. He lives in Colorado with his wife and four children.

Robert's first novel painted a scenario so frighteningly real that six Hollywood producers were bidding on movie rights before the novel was completed. His acclaimed debut novel, Comes A Horseman, is being made into a major motion picture by producer Mace Neufeld and his short story "Kill Zone" was featured in the anthology Thriller, edited by James Patterson.

Bob has sold the film rights to his second book, GERM. And he is writing the screenplay for a yet-to-be-written political thriller, which sold to Phoenix Pictures, for Andrew Davis (The Fugitive, The Guardian) to direct!

And his third book Deadfall. debuted to rave reviews!


ABOUT THE BOOK

Bob Liparulo wants to give away a signed 3 book set of the DreamHouse Kings books! Send an email to Bob [at] Liparulo [dot] com and put "CFBA" in the subject line. He will pick a winner next week!!!!

In the third novel of this young adult series, the mystery deepens in a house that is more than meets the eye.

The Kings have been in the creepy old place, their new home, for only a few days, but they've experienced enough terror to last a lifetime. And the mystery is growing even more baffling. Shadowy and shifting, the big house conceals doors into other worlds that blur the line between memories and dreams-and the slightest misstep can change history forever.

At least, that's if they believe the trembling old man who shows up claiming to know them. "There's a reason you're in the house," he tells them. "As gatekeepers, we must make sure only those events that are supposed to happen get through to the future."

The problem is that horrors beyond description wait on the other side of those gates. As if that weren't enough, the Kings are also menaced by sinister forces on this side-like the dark, ancient stranger Taksidian, who wants them out now.

It's hard to believe that things could have gotten worse for the King family-but they have. Dad's in handcuffs, the school bully has just found the secret portal that leads from the high school to the house, and Xander is sure he's found Mom, but they can't get back to her. Then Jesse arrives, and he seems to be a virtual Obi Wan of knowledge about the place. But is he the key they need to unlock the secrets, or just a crazy old man?

Dangers are increasing from within and without when Xander makes a startling discovery that explains why they haven't found any rooms that lead to the future. Alongside the threats, though, they're also starting to find some surprising allies.
All they have to do is get organized, get psyched, and get Mom. But that isn't nearly as easy as it sounds.

Xander, David, and Toria must venture beyond the gates to save their missing mother-and discover how truly high the stakes have become.

What they're saying:

Review
"If you like creepy and mysterious, this is the house for you! Every room opens a door to magic, true horror, and amazing surprises. I loved wandering around in these books. With a house of so many great, haunting stories, why would you ever want to go outside?" --R.L. Stine (Goosebumps)

Review
"A powerhouse storyteller delivers his most fantastic ride yet!"
-Ted Dekker, bestselling author of Kiss, Chosen and Infidel


Excerpt of chapter one:

Gatekeepers
(Dreamhouse Kings #3)

Thomas Nelson (January 6, 2009)


Tuesday, 6:58 P.M.

Pinedale, California

Xander’s words struck David’s heart like a musket ball.

He reeled back, then grabbed the collar of his brother’s grimy Confederate coat. His eyes stung, whether from the tears squeezing around them or the sand whipping through the room, he didn’t know. He pulled his face to within inches of Xander’s.

“You . . . you found her?” he said. “Xander, you found Mom?”

He looked over Xander’s shoulder to the portal door, which had slammed shut as soon as Xander stumbled through. The two boys knelt in the center of the antechamber. Wind billowed their hair. It whooshed in under the door, pulling back what belonged to the Civil War world from which Xander had just stepped. The smell of smoke and gunpowder was so strong, David could taste it.

He shook Xander. “Where is she? Why didn’t you bring her?”

His heart was going crazy, like a ferret racing around inside his chest, more frantic than ever. Twelve-year-olds didn’t have heart attacks, did they?

Xander leaned back and sat on his heels. His bottom lip trembled, and his chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. The wind plucked a leaf from his hair, whirled it through the air, then sucked it under the door.

“Xander!” David said. “Where’s Mom?”

Xander lowered his head. “I couldn’t . . .” he said. “I couldn’t get her. You gotta go over, Dae. You gotta bring her back!”

“Me?” A heavy weight pushed on David’s chest, smashing the ferret between sternum and spine. He rose, leaped for the door, and tugged on the locked handle.

He wore a gray hat (“It’s a kepi,” Dad would tell him) and jacket, like Xander’s blue ones. They had discovered that it took wearing or holding three items from the antechamber to unlock the portal door. He needed one more.

“Xander, you said found her! ”

Xander shook his head. “I think I saw her going into a tent, but it was at the other end of the camp. I couldn’t get to her.”

David’s mouth dropped open. “That’s not finding her! I thought I saw her, too, the other day in the World War II world. . .”

“Dae, listen.” Xander pushed himself up and gripped David’s shoulders. “She saw the message we left. She saw Bob.”

Bob was the cartoon face and family mascot since Dad was a kid, drawn on notes and birthday cards. When David and Xander had been in Ulysses S. Grant’s Union camp the night before, Xander had drawn it on a tent. It was their way of letting Mom know they were looking for her.

“She wrote back!” Xander said. “David, she’s there!”

“But . . .” David didn’t know if he wanted to scream or cry or punch his brother. “Why didn’t you go get her?”

“Something was happening on the battlefield. They were rounding up all the soldiers and herding us toward the front line. I tried to get to her, but they kept grabbing me, pushing me out of camp. When I broke away—“ Xander’s face became hard. “They called me a deserter. That quick, I was a deserter. One of them shot at me! I barely got back to the portal.” He shook his head. “You gotta go! Now! Before she’s gone, or the portal changes, or . . . I don’t know.”

Yes . . . no! David’s stomach hurt. His brain was throbbing against his skull. His broken arm started to ache again, and he rubbed the cast. “Xander, I can’t. They almost killed me yesterday.”

“That’s because you were a gray-coat.” Xander began taking off his blue jacket. “Wear this one.”

“Why can’t you? Just tell them—”

“I’ll never make it,” Xander said. “They’ll throw me in the stockade for deserting—if they don’t shoot me first.”

“They’ll do the same to me.” David hated how whiney it came out.

“You’re just a kid. They’ll see that.”

“I’m twelve, Xander. Only three years younger than you.”

“That’s the difference between fighting and not, Dae.” He held the jacket open. “I know it was really scary before, but this time you’ll be on the right side.”

David looked around the small room. He said, “Where’s the rifle you took when you went over? The Harper’s Ferry musket?”

His brother gazed at his empty hand. He scanned the floor. “I must have dropped it one of the times I fell. I was just trying to stay alive. I didn’t notice.” He shook the jacket. “Come on.”

David shrugged out of the gray jacket he was wearing. He tossed it onto the bench and reluctantly slipped into the one Xander held. He pulled the left side over his cast.

Xander buttoned it for him. He said, “The tent I saw her go into was near the back of the camp, on the other side from where I drew Bob.” He lifted the empty sleeve and let it flop down. He smiled. “Looks like you lost your arm in battle.”

“See? They’ll think I can fight, that I have fought.”

“I was just kidding.” He took the gray kepi off David’s head and replaced it with the blue one. Then he turned to the bench and hooks, looking for another item.

“Xander, listen,” David said. “You don’t know what’s been happening here. There are two cops downstairs.”

Xander froze in his reach for a canteen. “What?” His head pivoted toward the door opposite the portal, as though he could see through it into the hallway beyond, down the stairs, around the corner, and into the foyer. Or like he expected the cops to burst through. “What are they doing here?”

“They’re trying to get us out of the house. Taksidian’s with them.” Just thinking of the creepy guy who was responsible for his broken arm frightened David—but not as much as the thought of getting hauled away when they were so close to rescuing Mom. “Gimme that,” he said, waggling his fingers at the canteen.

Xander snatched it off the hook and looped the strap over David’s head. “Where’s Dad?”

“They put him in handcuffs. He told me to come get you. That’s why I was here when you came through.”

“Handcuffs!”

“And one more thing,” David said. He closed his eyes, feeling like the jacket had just gained twenty pounds. “Clayton, that kid who wanted to pound me at school? He came through the portal in the linen closet.” He opened one eye to see his brother’s shocked expression.

“How long was I gone?” Xander said. “Where is he now?”

“I pushed him back in. He returned to the school, but he might . . . come back.”

“Great.” Xander glanced over his shoulder at the hallway door again, then back at David. “Anything else I should know?”

David shook his head. “I guess if I die, I won’t have to go to school tomorrow.” He smiled weakly.

The school year—seventh grade for David, tenth for Xander—had started just yesterday: two days of classes. Mom had been kidnapped the day before that. David couldn’t believe they’d even gone to school under the circumstances, but Dad, who was the new principal, had insisted they keep up normal appearances so they wouldn’t attract suspicion.

Lot of good it did, David thought, thinking of the cops downstairs.

“I don’t know,” Xander said. “Dad would probably figure out a way to get your body there.”

David’s expression remained grim.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Don’t get taken away,” David told his brother. “Don’t leave with me over there. Don’t leave me alone in this house when I come back. Don’t—“

Xander touched his fingers to David’s lips. “I won’t leave,” he said. “I’ll go see what’s happening downstairs, but I won’t leave. No way, no how. Okay? Besides—“ He smiled, but David saw how hard it was for him to do it. “You’ll have Mom with you when you come back. Right?”

It was David’s turn to smile, and he found it wasn’t so hard to do. “Yeah.” He turned, took a deep breath, and opened the portal door.


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Thursday, January 29, 2009

Interview and excerpt - BLUEGRASS COURTSHIP by Allie Pleiter

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.29.2009

Bluegrass Courtship
By
Allie Pleiter


The celebrity host of TV’s Missionnovation, Drew Downing is comfortable with his fame. He’s become accustomed to the cheering, star-struck townfolk that usually welcome him as he renovates churches countrywide. Usually. Then he and his crew set up in tiny Middleburg, Kentucky, to rebuild the church’s storm-damaged preschool. The very lovely, very no-nonsense hardware store owner Janet Bishop is suspicious of Drew’s true motives. It looks like Janet Bishop’s faith—in God, in herself, and in love—needs some serious rebuilding. And Drew Downing is just the man for the job.

From RTBookreviews Magazine:
“Four Stars--With some delightfully humorous moments, Pleiter delivers an appealing romance as well as a story filled with interesting characters”

And now, here’s me and Allie!

Tell us about your Kentucky Corners series.

They are a wonderful series of four books set in the fictional Kentucky small town of Middleburg. It’s a splendid cast of characters that have been loads of fun to wield. The first book, BLUEGRASS HERO came out in July 2008, and my current book, BLUEGRASS COURTSHIP is the second in the series.

If your heroine were a dessert, what would she be and why?

Janet would be apple pie. Sweet, comfortable, often overlooked. Really good apple pie is one of life’s greatest unheralded pleasures. Plus, you can argue with yourself that since it’s fruit, it’s nutritious.

What's your favorite scene from Bluegrass Courtship?

The one involving the backhoe. I’m not sayin’ one bit more…you’ll have to find it out for yourself.

Who would play your hero in a movie version of the book?

You know, I cast every one of my books as if I were casting a movie—so I know this for certain. My Drew Downing would be played by Chris O’Donnell (the guy who played Robin in the Batman movies).

What are you knitting right now?

Oh, you know how to ask the best questions! Right now I’m working on two projects for my destiKNITions blog (www.destiKNITions.blogspot.com). One is a lace sampler scarf and the other is a feather-and-fan shawl, both from yarn shops in Charleston, SC.

You're off the hotseat! Any parting shots?

Thanks for the chance to spout off about one of my all-time favorite series! The next book in the Kentucky Corners series will be BLUEGRASS BLESSINGS, and will be out this summer. One more will complete the series, BLUEGRASS CHRISTMAS out for the holiday season. If you want to find out what I’m writing, visit www.alliepleiter.com. If you want to find out what I’m knitting, visit www.destiKNITions.blogspot.com. Thanks!

Camy here: Thanks for being here, Allie!

Excerpt of chapter one:

Eight seconds.

Sometimes five, but never more than eight.

Drew Downing knew the world divided itself up into people who loved his television show, and people who hated it. After three seasons of Missionnovation, Drew could size up which side of that very thin line any one person stood. Always in under eight seconds after his trademark greeting of "God bless 'ya and hello, Middleburg!"

He didn't need the last five seconds this time… not with the pretty face of that woman in overalls standing at the end of the paint aisle. It broadcast pure skepticism. Drew didn't even need three seconds to tell him Bishop Hardware, while it was Middleburg's only hardware store, would be no instant ally to his cause. "Hostiles," his producer, Charlie Buchanan, called them. Sometimes you could win 'em over, most times no matter what you did they were just sure you had an angle. If the hostiles couldn't find an angle, they never believed you just might not have one. It only meant you hid it well.

Middleburg, Kentucky was the perfect project for the season finale of Drew's Missionnovation television renovation program. The tiny town's church preschool had been smashed by one hundred-year-old tree during a summer storm. Toddlers had had to learn their primary colors in the YMCA gym because their preschool had been destroyed. The town had been holding bake sales to buy new roofs and spaghetti dinners to fund drywall. And now Missionnovation was here to help.

Some folks at least were glad of it. "My stars!" came a woman's awestruck squeal from over by the gardening supplies. "It's those,Missionnovation folks! From TV! Pam, look! It's him."

"How may I help you?" The woman in overalls asked.

Wow, Drew thought, I didn't know you could make "How may I help you?" sound unfriendly. "Well, that's just it," he said, turning his gaze to the excited crowd that had pooled into the store behind him, "I'm here to ask you the same thing."

Oh, sure, said the woman's dark eyes. Drew could be in a sea of people thrilled to meet him, and the only thing he'd notice was the one person who was convinced he was on the take. The one person sure the "ministry makeover" Mission-novation offered was just too good to be true. Charlie was always giving him a hard time about his obsession to "win over the hostiles."

A chubby older man grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. "Mr. Downing, we sure are glad to see you and your team here. I'm the one who sent in the application."

"Of course you are." Drew recognized him from the application video and clasped one of the man's shoulders. "And I'm glad you did. You must be Mayor Epson."

"I am." He beamed. A few of the locals patted him on the back. Watching the person who'd sent in the application get to be a hero never got old. That application process was long, complicated and demanded a lot of work. Getting to tell that person their persistence paid off, and their dream project would be realized, and on TV to boot, well that was the high-octane fuel that enabled Drew to pull as many all-nighters as he did.

"Howard Epson, life's about to change. Your town's about to get a shot in the arm like only Missionnovation can deliver. Are you up for it?"

These folks watched their Thursday night television. They knew what to do when Drew Downing asked "Are you up for it?" The tiny crowd yelled "We're up for it!" so loud it echoed throughout the store. Two teenage girls grabbed a sheet of paint chip samples off the display next to them and held them out to Drew, asking for autographs. Out of the corner of his eye, Drew caught the lady in the overalls rolling her eyes.

"There'll be plenty of time for that kind of stuff later, gals," Drew said to the pair. "Right now we've got work ahead. You girls think you could convince your classmates to come on over? We need all the hands we can get on demolition day."

"I suppose we can find a few friends," they said. If they were in charge of bringing teens onto the set, Drew knew they'd be the most popular girls in school tomorrow.

"Then I'll put you in charge of teen volunteers. You go see Annie in the bus and she'll get you all set up with a box of T-shirts to give out as you sign folks up, okay?"

"Sure!" They bubbled up the aisle toward Annie, who'd be waiting in the bus as always.

"Mayor Epson, lead the way."

"I'd be delighted!"

Drew turned back to the woman, who hadn't moved from her spot at the end of the paint aisle. He noticed, for the first time, that the name on her Bishop Hardware nametag was Janet Bishop. Owner? Daughter of owner? Wife of owner? It was too soon to say. "We'll be back later with a mighty long list," he said, pointing right at her.

She looked unconvinced.

Why do hostiles always look unconvinced?

Vern Murphy shuffled up the aisle to stand beside Janet Bishop as she stared after the crowd now leaving Bishop Hardware.

"Don't that beat all," he said, scraping black grease from under his fingernails with the edge of a screwdriver. "He's that TV guy, ain't he? Should spice things up around here for a bit."

"It'll do something, that's for sure." Janet muttered, even though she could hear her father's gravelly voice in the back of her mind saying "Jannybean, if you can't say something nice…"

Vern pointed at the green bus so big it blocked the entire storefront. It had Missionnovation across the side in large white letters. "They probably got all kinds of fancy-pants tools in there. You know, like the pneumatic doodads in those catalogues of yours. Might be worth watching. Sounds like they'll be buying up a storm if nothing else, so business'll be good."

Buses full of tourists were fairly normal in Middleburg, Kentucky. It was a charming, rustic—okay, sometimes a little too rustic—town in the middle of horse country. The kind of town with one main street—Ballad Road—running down the center to comprise its "downtown." A community where everybody knew everyone's name and often everyone's business. Not exactly thriving, but getting by on hard work and watching out for each other. Even so, the storm had hit lots of people hard, and the preschool damage had presented a big challenge. This tourbus, however, was more like a rolling subdivision than your average charter bus. People were already gathered around, talking, pointing, straining to see inside the tinted windows.

"Vern," Janet sighed, "these people have corporate sponsors. Companies who donate everything so they get their stuff on TV. They're not going to need much from us." Janet replaced the can of primer someone had knocked off the shelf in their hurry to follow Downing.

"But he just said he'd be back with a long list," Vern countered.

"A long list of requests, I'd guess. Those people think you'll do anything to get on their show. That you'll fall all over them and give them whatever they want. And we can't afford to be a 'corporate sponsor' right now." She headed back to her office, where she had three orders yet to fill. Actual business, resulting in actual income. She'd have to give Howard a piece of her mind the next time she saw him. He was always pulling stunts like this.

"Sounds like I'd better head on over to that bus and tell them all just what they're dealing with in here," Vern said. "We don't stand for no Hollywood shenanigans."

Ten minutes later, Janet looked up from her order forms to see a short, round-faced woman in a green button-down shirt and glasses standing in her doorway. "I'm Annie Michaels," she said, extending a hand, "vice president of Shenanigan Prevention."

"Um," she stuttered, genuinely shocked that Vern had gone through with it, "I'm Janet Bishop."

Annie cocked her head toward the doorway. "They don't make 'em like Mr. Murphy anymore."

"Vern?" Janet put down the calculator she'd been using and held out her hand. "No, he's definitely one of a kind. Been working here since my dad bought the shop, which means he's been at Bishop Hardware longer than I have."

"He thinks pretty highly of you. He just gave me an earful about not pulling any fast ones on you. Said you're too smart to fall for any of that…oh, how'd he put it? 'Slick-o TV shenanigans y'all may be used to.'"

"Yep," Janet chuckled, "that'd be our Vern."

Annie pushed her glasses up into her wavy black hair. She had a sensible, friendly smile. "You got a minute?"

"I guess." Janet swept the pile of bulb catalogues off the office's other chair and motioned for her to sit down.

"I meant to come on board the bus," Annie said, "I've got a bunch of stuff I'd like to go over with you, and I can bring it all out here, but…"

But we'd rather deal with you on our turf.

"The sponsors give us so much free food, I'm always trying to share it. Honestly, if I eat one more box of chocolate chip cookies…"

Chocolate chip cookies? Was Janet staring at good fortune or a great background check that they knew her weakness for chocolate chip cookies? Her stomach growled, as if to say it wouldn't quibble much either way. "Well, okay." It wasn' t as if there'd be many customers. Everyone in town would probably be at the church preschool by now anyway.

The bus doors folded open with a whoosh, and Annie motioned for Janet to step inside. As she walked up the steep stairs, Janet noticed a hand-carved sign hung over the entryway. Home Green Home, it read.

"Drew made that one weekend when it was pouring rain and we were all beyond thankful to have a warm, dry place to sleep. He started calling the bus 'Home Green Home' after that, and it stuck. Granted, though, some days this bus feels less homey than others." Annie shot Janet a look as she turned toward the bus's center table. The bus was high-end; sleek and well-appointed with all kinds of comforts like a microwave, several televisions and plush furnishings. It also had a chaotic, slightly messy feel to it, as papers and videotapes and a few boxes of T-shirts were parked on every available surface. The table, however, was clear and neatly arranged. "Some days a corporate cubicle looks like a positive vacation. Drew's nonstop creat...

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Tagged at Random

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.28.2009

Ane Mulligan tagged me, so here goes:

Rules: Once you've been tagged, write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you.

At the end, choose 10 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

1. I am currently exercising 6 days a week! Yay!

2. I’m walking/jogging to try to build up so that I can eventually run for 30 minutes straight.

3. I am currently wearing pink fingerless gloves I knit myself.

4. I am also currently wearing a spiral scarf I knit myself.

5. I’ll be teaching a mentoring group at the HeadStart program at Mount Hermon Writers Conference this spring.

6. Actually, I just realized I’m also wearing socks I knit myself.

7. I am really an introvert because large groups of people drain my energy, they don’t give me energy, but being an introvert doesn’t mean I can’t be friendly and outgoing—it just means that once I hit a certain point, I need to be alone to recharge.

8. I’m currently working on a proposal for a new romantic suspense. It’s hard trying to think up ways for the villain to try to kill the heroine. Where she escapes.

9. I’m almost done with the really really really late Christmas present for my parents, but I think they’ll like it. (And no, Mom, I will not tell you what it is.)

10. I drank 10 glasses of water yesterday.

11. I found one of my knitting row counters (finally!) but still haven’t found the other one. Grrrrr

12. I am avoiding making my yearly check up with my doctor because I’m afraid she’ll suggest a mammogram, since I’m getting into that age.

13. I belong to the Amazon vine program where I get free books (usually ARCs) and I have to post a review on them. I’ve read some really good books for them lately.

14. I’m also trying to read some historical romance novels I borrowed from my friend Danica, because I want to get them back to her ASAP. Between these and my Amazon vine books, I haven’t done as much reading for my writing as I’d like to.

15. Captain Caffeine suggested I write a book set in Hong Kong. I said I’d need to visit there to do that. I’d be willing to sacrifice.

16. I’m really getting into watching CSI: NY lately. The story premises have been really interesting.

17. Another favorite TV show is Leverage on TNT. Really clever plots. It’s like Ocean’s 11, which I loved.

18. I still haven’t mailed my thank you cards for Christmas gifts. (I’ll get to it this week, Mom!)

19. My favorite knitting store is KnitPicks.com. I love their Harmony wood needles and I love how they offer luxury yarns at very affordable prices.

20. I currently have some bulky weight mohair blend yarn and I’m not sure what to do with it. Any ideas?

21. I have been eating with chopsticks lately because it forces me to eat slower. And it feels kind of neat to eat with chopsticks again, which I used to do more when I was in school and living at home.

22. Lately I’ve been really happy that my sinus headaches are almost entirely gone, thanks to eating a tablespoon of local unfiltered honey every day and using a saline nasal rinse.

23. I love giving away Christian fiction on my blog and in my newsletter YahooGroup. I like promoting Christian fiction.

24. I think I’m going to introduce “You Are the Light” by Fee for our youth group worship.

25. Considering how much I like to talk about myself, it was really hard coming up with 25 things about me.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

My life is no longer incomplete

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.27.2009

Okay, that title might be a slight exaggeration, but as a writer, my life is in my hands. And my computer keyboard.

Those of you following me on Twitter know that a few weeks ago, I accidentally spilled water on my keyboard.

Captain Caffeine oh-so-sympathetically said, “Well, you shouldn’t have been drinking near your keyboard.”

But I always have water when I’m working! I drink about 10 glasses a day, more in the summertime since I sweat like a horse.

Well, I did the correct thing—I unplugged it (electrocution is not my preferred way to die) and turned it upside down. And shook it a little.

TWO drops came out.

I also tried compressed air to try to get some of the water out. More drops came out that way (but this might have caused damage—see below).

Then I called Captain Caffeine in a tearful panic, which is when he uttered the wonderfully encouraging words above.

I dried it upside down for three days, then plugged it in. It still didn’t work—several keys wouldn’t work.

Then the Captain told me to try setting it in front of a fan to evaporate the water.

So I did that. For 24 hours straight.

I plugged it in again. The C key still wouldn’t work.

I dissolved into tears.

My friend Tina’s husband worked in IT, and when the tragedy first occurred, he commented on Facebook that most of the time, the keyboard won’t last long after such abuse, and it’s better to just get a new one since they aren’t that expensive.

My shtick was that I had just bought this one! Like a few months ago. Sigh ...

So I bit the bullet and ordered a new one, which finally came today!

My life is once again complete.

This is what I was doing in the meantime:


And this is the new keyboard:

Monday, January 26, 2009

Book review - THE RED SIREN by M.L. Tyndall

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.26.2009

The Red Siren
by
M.L. Tyndall


Faith Westcott, a fiery redhead, is a lady by day and a pirate by night. How long can she maintain this dual identity before she's caught red handed?

Dajon Waite, who scours the Carolina coast, expunging it of pirates and smugglers, is a more-than-capable captain in the British Royal Navy. But when asked to take on the guardianship of Faith and her two sisters, he finds himself in deep water. Having vowed to avoid women, what will he do when he begins falling for Faith?

Can the all-consuming love of a godly captain redeem a not-so-ladylike pirate?

Camy here:

Female pirates! What’s not to like???

The hero in this book, Dajon, is my favorite hero of all of M.L. Tyndall’s stories that I’ve read. Kent from The Restitution used to be my favorite, but Dajon reminds me of Captain Wentworth from Jane Austen’s Persuasion—passionate, strong, a solid naval officer, a strong Christian. Yet he has a softer side that comes out and I just love the man (don’t tell Captain Caffeine! Oy!).

Faith was a bit hard for me to like at first, because I didn’t really like some of the things she did to poor Dajon. But she has a strong, emotional reason for what she does, which makes her more sympathetic as a character, and I respected her for her love for her sisters and her determination to save them.

The setting in Charles Towne is excellent. I love how the author wove in the cultural aspects of the city as well as the naval presence in the port.

This book is completely safe for high school girls to read, although there are a few things hinted at that some mothers might not want their junior high school girls to read about.

I’m really looking forward to the next installment in the series about Hope! She was my favorite of the three sisters.

Book giveaway - The Red Siren by M. L. Tyndall

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.26.2009

The winner of
Never Say Diet: Make Five Decisions and Break the Fat Habit for Good and The Never Say Diet Personal Fitness Trainer: Sixteen Weeks to Achieve Your Goal of a Healthy Lifestyle
by
Chantel Hobbs is
Belinda Y
Congratulations!

Blog book giveaway:

To enter to win today’s book, leave a comment on this blog post, giving your name and saying you want to enter. International readers are welcome to enter!

Please leave an email address or website where I can contact you (please use this format--you [at] yourmail.com--or something like that to prevent spammers from trolling for your email address). It is the winner’s responsibility to check to see if you won and to email me if you haven’t yet heard from me.

I always email the winner and give them a week to reply, but if I don’t receive an answer, I will pull another person to win the book. I am not responsible for a lost opportunity if you leave an email address you don’t check frequently.

Only one entry per person. The winner can expect their free book in 4-6 weeks.

You have a week to comment--I'll pick a name out of a hat on Monday, February 2nd. (BTW, you can post a comment and NOT enter, too.)

Today I’m giving away:

The Red Siren
by
M.L. Tyndall


Faith Westcott abandoned her shallow faith when a series of tragedies struck her family. To save herself and her sisters from forced marriages, this fiery, born-to-the-manor redhead is a lady by day and a pirate by night.

God-fearing Dajon Waite, who scours the Carolina coast, expunging it of pirates and smugglers, is a more-than-capable captain in the British Royal Navy. But when he is asked to take on the guardianship of Faith and her sisters, he's headed for deep water.

Will Faith regain her trust in God only to find herself headed for the gallows? And will Dajon scuttle his good name—and neck—to save her?

Excerpt of chapter one:

The Red Siren

Barbour Publishing, Inc (January 2009)



August 1713, English Channel off Portsmouth, England

This was Dajon Waite's last chance. If he didn't sail his father's merchant ship and the cargo she held safely into harbor, his future would be tossed to the wind. With his head held high, he marched across the deck of the Lady Em and gazed over the choppy seas of the channel, expecting at any minute to see the lights of Portsmouth pierce the gray shroud of dusk. Another hour and his mission would be completed with success. It had taken two years before his father had trusted him to captain the most prized vessel in his merchant fleet, the Lady Em-named after Dajon's mother, Emily-especially on a journey that had taken him past hostile France and Spain and then far into the pirate-infested waters off the African coast.

Fisting his hands on his hips, Dajon puffed out his chest and drew a deep breath of salty air and musky earth-the smell of home. Returning with a shipload of ivory, gold, and pepper from the Gold Coast, Dajon could almost see the beaming approval on his father's sea-weathered face. Finally Dajon would prove himself an equal to his older brother, Theodore-obedient, perfect Theodore-who never let his father down. Dajon, however, had been labeled naught but capricious and unruly, the son who possessed neither the courage for command nor the brains for business.

Fog rolled in from the sea, obscuring the sunset into a dull blend of muted colors as it stole the remaining light of what had been a glorious day. Bowing his head, Dajon thanked God for His blessing and protection on the voyage.

"A sail, a sail!" a coarse voice blared from above.

Plucking the spyglass from his belt, Dajon held it to his eye. "Where away, Mules?"

"Directly off our lee, Captain."

Dajon swerved the glass to the port and adjusted it as Cudney, his first mate, halted beside him.

"She seems to be foundering, Captain," Mules shouted.

Through the glass, the dark outline of a ship came into focus, the whites of her sails stark against the encroaching night. Gray smoke spiraled up from her quarterdeck as sailors scrambled across her in a frenzy. The British flag flapped a harried plea from her mainmast.

"Hard to larboard," he yelled aft, lowering the glass. "Head straight for her, Mr. Nelson."

"Straight for her, sir."

"Beggin' your pardon, Captain." Cudney gave him a sideways glance. "But didn't your father give explicit orders never to approach an unknown vessel?"

"My father is not the captain of this ship, and I'll thank you to obey my orders
without question." Dajon stiffened his lips, tired of having his decisions challenged. True, he had failed on two of his father's prior ventures-one to the West Indies where a hurricane sunk his ship, and the other where he ran aground on the shoals off Portugal. Neither had been his fault. But this time, things would be different. Perhaps his father would even promote Dajon to head overseer of his affairs.

With a nod, Cudney turned, "Mr. Blake, Mr. Gibes, prepare to luff, if you please." His bellowing voice echoed over the decks, sending the men up the shourds.

"Who is she?" Cudney held out his hand for the glass.

"A merchant ship, perhaps." Dajon handed him the telescope then gripped the railing as the Lady Em veered to larboard, sending a spray of seawater over her decks. "But she's British, and she's in trouble.

The ship lumbered over the agitated waves. Dajon watched Cudney as he steadied the glass on his eye and his boots on the sodden deck. A low whistle spilled from his mouthas he twisted the glass for a better look.

"Pray tell, Mr. Cudney, what has caught your eye─one of those new ship's wheels you've been coveting?"

"Nay, Captain. But something nearly as beautiful─a lady."

Dajon snatched the glass back as the Lady Em climbed a rising swell and then tromped down the other side. As the vessel's sails snapped in the rising wind, he braced his boots on the deck and focused the glass on the merchant ship. A woman clung to the foremast, panic distorted her features─indistinct through the distant haze. She raised a delicate hand to her forehead as if she were going to faint. Red curls fluttered in the wind behind her. Heat flooded Dajon despite the chill of the channel. Lowering the glass, he tapped it into the palm of his hand, loathing himself for his shameless reaction. Hadn't his weakness for the female gender already caused enough pain?

Yet clearly the vessel was in trouble.

"We shall come alongside her," Dajon ordered.

Cudney glared at the ship. "Something is not right, I can feel it in my gut."

"Nonsense. Where is your chivalry?" Dajon smiled grimly at his friend, ignoring the hair bristling on the back of his own neck.

Cudney's dark eyes shot to Dajon, "But your father─"

"Enough!" Dajon snapped. "My father did not intend for me to allow a lady to drown. Besides, pirates would not dare sail so close to England─especially to Portsmouth, where so many of His Majesty's warships are anchored." DAjon glanced back at the foundering ship, now only half a knot off their bow. Smoke poured from her waist, curling like a snake into the dark sky. Left to burn, the fire would sink her within an hour. "Surely you do not suspect a woman of piracy?"

Cudney cocked one brow. "begging your pardon, Captain, but I have seen stranger things on these seas."

****


Faith Louise Westcott flung her red curls behind her and held a quivering hand to her breast, nausea rising in her throat at her idiotic display. How did women feign such weakness without losing the contents of their stomachs?

"They 'ave taken the bait, mistress." A sinister chuckle filled the breeze.

"Oh, thank heavens." Faith released the mast. Planting a hand on her hip, she gave Lucas a mischievous grin. "Well, what are you waiting for? Ready the men."

"Aye, aye." The bulky first mate winked, and then scuttled across the deck, his bald head gleaming in the light from the lantern hanging on the mainmast.

After checking the pistol stuffed in the sash of her gown and the one strapped to her calf, Faith sauntered to the railing to get a better look at her latest victim, a sleek, two-masted brigantine. The orange, white, and blue of the Dutch flag fluttered from her mizzen. A very nice prize indeed. One that would bring her even closer to winning the private war she waged-a war for the survival of her and her sisters.

The oncoming ship sat low in the water, its hold no doubt packed with valuable cargo. Faith grinned. With this ship and the one she had plundered earlier, loaded with precious spices and silks, she was well on her way to amassing the fortune that would provide for her independence and that of her sisters-at least the two of them that were left unfettered by matrimony.

She allowed her thoughts to drift for a moment to Charity, the oldest. Last
year their father had forced her into a union with Lord Villement, a vile,
perverse man who had oppressed and mistreated her beyond what a woman
should endure. Faith feared for her sister's safety and prayed for God to
deliver Charity, but to no avail.

Then, of course, there was the incident with Hope, their younger sister.

That was when Faith had stopped praying.

She would rather die than see her two younger sisters fettered to abusive
men, and the only way to avoid that fate was to shield them with their own
fortune. Cringing, she stifled the fury bubbling in her stomach. She mustn't
think of it now. She had a ship to plunder, and this was as much for Charity
as it was for any of them.

The bowsprit of the brigantine bowed in obedience to her as it plunged over
the white-capped swells. Gazing into the hazy mist, Faith longed to get a
peek at the ninnies who had been so easily duped by her ruse but dared not
raise the spyglass to her eye. Women didn't know how to use such
contraptions, after all.

Putting on her most flirtatious smile, she waved at her prey, beckoning the
fools onward, then she scanned the deck as her crew rushed to their stations.
Aboard her ship, she was in control; she was master of her life, her
future-here and nowhere else. And oh how she loved it!

Lucas's large frame appeared beside her. "The rest of the men be waitin'
yer command below hatches, mistress." He smacked his oversized lips
together in a sound Faith had become accustomed to before a battle.
Nodding, she scanned her ship. Wilson manned the helm, Grayson and
Lambert hovered over the fire, pretending to put it out, and Kane and Mac
clambered up the ratlines in a pretense of terror. She spotted Morgan
pacing the special perch Faith had nailed into the mainmast just for him.
She whistled and the red macaw halted, bobbed his head up and down,
and squawked, "Man the guns, man the guns!"

Faith chuckled. She had purchased the bird from a trader off Morocco and
named him after Captain Henry Morgan, the greatest pirate of all time. The
feisty parrot had been a fine addition to her crew...

Returning her gaze to her unsuspecting prey, Faith inhaled a breath of the
crisp air. Smoke bit her throat and nose, but she stifled a cough as the thrill
of her impending victory charged through her, setting every nerve aflame.
The merchant ship was nigh upon them. She could already make out the
worried expressions upon the crew's faces as they charged to her rescue.

This is for you, Charity, and for you, Mother.
Heavy fog blanketed the two ships in gray that darkened with each passing
minute. Faith tugged her shawl tighter against her body, both to ward off
the chill and to hide the pistol in her sash. A vision of her mother's pale face
formed in the fog before her, blood marring the sheets on the birthing bed
where she lay.

Take care of your sisters, Faith.

A burst of wind chilled Faith's moist cheeks. A tear splattered onto the deck
by her shoes before she brushed the rest from her face. "I will, Mother. I
promise."

"Ahoy there!" A booming voice shattered her memories.

She raised her hand in greeting toward the brigantine as it heaved ten
yards off their starboard beam. "Ahoy, kind sir. Thank God you have arrived
in time," she yelled back, sending the sailors scurrying across the deck.

Soon, they lowered a cockboat, filled it with men, and shoved off.

A twinge of guilt poked at Faith's resolve. These men had come to her aid
with kind intentions. She swallowed hard, trying to drown her nagging
conscience. They were naught but rich merchants, she told herself, and
she, merely a Robin Hood of the seas, taking from the rich to feed the poor.
She had exhausted all legal means of acquiring the money she needed,
and present society offered her no other choice.

The boat thumped against her hull, and she nodded at Kane and Mac, who
had jumped down from the shrouds and tossed the rope ladder over the
side.

"Permission to come aboard?" The man who appeared to be the captain
shouted toward Lucas as he swung his legs over the bulwarks, but his eyes
were upon Faith.

By all means. Faith shoved a floppy fisherman's hat atop her head,
obscuring her features from his view, and smiled sweetly.

****


"Aye, I beg ye, be quick about it afore our ship burns to a cinder," the
massive bald man beckoned to Dajon.

Dajon hesitated. He knew he should obey his father's instructions, he knew
he shouldn't risk the hoard of goods in his hold, he knew he should pay
heed to the foreboding of dread that now sank like a anchor in his stomach,
but all he could see was the admiring smile of the red-haired beauty, and
he led his men over the bulwarks.

After directing them to assist in putting out the fire, he marched toward the
dark, bald man and bowed.

"Captain Dajon Waite at your service."

When his gaze drifted to the lady, she slunk into the shadows by the
foremast, her features lost beneath the cover of her hat. Odd. Somehow he
had envisioned a much warmer reception. At the very least, some display of
feminine appreciation.

"Give 'em no quarter! Give 'em no quarter!" a shrill voice shrieked, drawing
Dajon's attention behind him to a large red parrot perched on a peg jutting
from the mainmast.

A pinprick of fear stabbed him.

"Captain," one of his crew called from the quarterdeck. "The ship ain't on
fire. It's just a barrel with flaming rubbish inside it!"
The anchor that had sunk in Dajon's stomach dropped into his boots with an
ominous clank.

He spun back around, hoping for an explanation, but all he received was a
sinister grin on the bald man's mouth.

Alarm seized Dajon, sucking away his confidence, his reason, his pride.
Surely he could not have been this daft. He glanced back at the Lady Em,
bobbing in the sea beside them-the pride of his father's fleet.

"To battle, men!" The woman roared in a voice belying her gender-a voice
that pummeled Dajon's heart to dust.

Dozens of armed pirates spat from the hatches onto the deck. Brandishing
weapons, they hurtled toward his startled crew. One by one, his men
dropped their buckets to the wooden planks with hollow thuds and slowly
raised their hands. Their anxious gazes shot to Dajon, seeking his
command. The pirates chortled. Dajon's fear exploded into a searing rage.

They were surrounded.

The woman drew a pistol from her sash. Dajon could barely make out the
tilted lift of her lips. He wiped the sweat from his brow and prayed to God
that he would wake up from this nightmare.

"I thank you, Captain, for your chivalrous rescue." The woman pointed her
pistol at him and cocked it with a snap. "But I believe I'll be taking over
your ship."


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To find out about the differences between my blog giveaways, my newsletter giveaways, and my website contest, click here.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Premio-Dardos Award

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.23.2009

My blog has been awarded the "Premio-Dardos" Award today by Crystal Miller of the Chat ‘n’ Chew Café. Isn’t that just the most delicious title ever? Makes me think of homemade sushi and a joke from my uncle Richard.

Here is what is said about the Premio-Dardos:
"This award 'acknowledges the values that every Blogger displays in their effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values with each message they write.'

Camy here: “Cultural, ethical, literary and personal values”? Um ... well, I get the cultural part, but ethical, literary and personal values? I don’t know if my blog even aspires to such greatness. :P

Awards like this have been created with the intention of promoting community among Bloggers. It's a way to show appreciation and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web.

Camy here: Okay. Well, Crystal must be taking pity on me.

I understand this award comes with a couple of rules, and they are:

1. Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who granted it to you, along with his/her blog link.

2. Pass the award to (15) other blogs that you feel are worthy of this recognition. Remember to contact each of them to let them know they have been chosen as recipients.

*Please note: when copying the award picture, please download it to your own computer first and upload from there to your own blog site.

I’m just going to list blogs I like, but no pressure to blog about this award:

Books, Music, and Chinese Food
Robin Caroll
Mary Connealy
Janet Dean
Danica Favorite
Audra Harders
Sharon Hinck
Pamela James
Myra Johnson
Dineen Miller
Relz Reviews
Seekerville
Missy Tippens
MaryLu Tyndall
Cheryl Wyatt

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Still time to enter my January newsletter contest

Captain's Log, Supplemental

Don't forget that I give Christian fiction away to my newsletter YahooGroup subscribers! Every month I send out a newsletter (just one email a month, so don't worry about your Inboxes being bombarded) and I always have a monthly newsletter contest.

This month, I'm giving away a copy of A Passion Redeemed by Julie Lessman. Click here to read the January newsletter.

If you haven't joined my newsletter YahooGroup yet, join today! If you have problems joining my YahooGroup, just email me to let me know and I can help you out.

Enter your email address to subscribe to my YahooGroups newsletter!

How to stay motivated?

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.22.2009

I posted over at Faithchick today, and I’m looking for tips for staying motivated in my New Year’s Resolution:

Camy here, asking how everybody’s doing on New Year’s Resolutions?

I know, I know, I hear the collective groan. But really, it’s not too late to try something new for 2009.


Click here to read my blog post and PLEASE leave a comment (here or over there) if you have any tips or ideas for staying motivated.

Book giveaway - The Baby Fat Diet by Monica Bearden and Shara Aaron

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.22.2009

The winner of
Sweetwater Gap
by
Denise Hunter
is
Kara
Congratulations!

Blog book giveaway:

To enter to win today’s book, leave a comment on this blog post, giving your name and saying you want to enter. International readers are welcome to enter!

Please leave an email address or website where I can contact you (please use this format--you [at] yourmail.com--or something like that to prevent spammers from trolling for your email address). It is the winner’s responsibility to check to see if you won and to email me if you haven’t yet heard from me.

I always email the winner and give them a week to reply, but if I don’t receive an answer, I will pull another person to win the book. I am not responsible for a lost opportunity if you leave an email address you don’t check frequently.

Only one entry per person. The winner can expect their free book in 4-6 weeks.

You have a week to comment--I'll pick a name out of a hat on Thursday, January 29th. (BTW, you can post a comment and NOT enter, too.)

Today I’m giving away:

The Baby Fat Diet: A Busy Mom's Guide to Losing Weight and Looking Fabulous
By
Monica Bearden and Shara Aaron


Motherhood doesn't have to mean permanent weight gain!

Get rid of those post-pregnancy pounds even if your youngest is already in school.

Losing the baby fat is one of the hardest things for mothers even years after they give birth. Eating for two often results in gaining too much weight, and the more a woman gains, the harder it is to lose. And after having kids, moms are so busy and distracted it’s necessary for them to learn how to eat in a healthy, self-nurturing way again.

In The Baby Fat Diet, moms will be relieved to learn that small changes can make a big difference. Restrictive dieting and cutting out favorite foods to the extreme isn’t necessary. The book offers simple, easy-to-live-by health and nutrition tips that help women change the behaviors that make losing weight so difficult. The 30 timeless tips throughout are eminently practical and the recipes are delicious. Not only will moms lose weight on The Baby Fat Diet, they'll feel good about themselves, too. Moms will discover:

* Eating for one again
* The importance of portion sizes
* Why breakfast is a weight-loss ally
* The fast-food solution
* Pairing pleasure with healthy foods
* Exercising to the Wiggles(R)

Want more book giveaways? Subscribe to my newsletter!


To find out about the differences between my blog giveaways, my newsletter giveaways, and my website contest, click here.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Getting to know you meme

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.21.2009

I think I did this meme before, but OH WELL!

1. What time did you get up this morning? Noon—I slept in today

2. Diamonds or pearls? Diamonds

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? I think it was Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End which I saw with Shelley Adina.

4. What is your favorite TV show? Right now, it’s Leverage on TNT. I used to rave about 24, but so far, this season hasn’t been exciting my interest as much as other seasons.

5. What do you usually have for breakfast? Homemade low fat yogurt! I’m actually quite proud of myself that I’ve been eating breakfast everyday within 30 minutes of waking up. Before, I wouldn’t eat until lunch, which was very bad of me.

6. What is your middle name? Mie

7. What food do you dislike? vinegar

8. What is your favorite CD? I don't have any one favorite. Right now I’m listening to Matthew West, Something To Say

9. What kind of car do you drive? Toyota Camry

10. Favorite sandwich? hot pastrami from The Hat in Los Angeles

11. What characteristic do you most despise? Manipulation, which usually goes hand in hand with deception

12. Favorite item of clothing? My knitted lace scarves!

13. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would it be? Parts of Europe

14. What color is your bathroom? cream

15. Favorite brand of clothing? Taryn Rose shoes

16. Where would you retire to? someplace rural

17. Favorite sport to watch? volleyball

18. Furthest place you are sending this? Well, I’m blogging rather than emailing this to people, so I have no idea. If you live far away from California, leave a comment to tell me where you live!

19. Who do you least expect to send this back to you? Again, I’m blogging this rather than emailing.

20. Person you expect to send it back first? Which of my blog readers is going to be first to join this meme and post their answers?

21. Favorite saying? “No.”

22. When is your birthday? September 25th.

23. Are you a morning or night person? I am SUCH a night person it’s not even funny. Or maybe it’s just that I’m so NOT a morning person that it’s obvious I have to be a night person.

24. What is your shoe size? It depends on the brand. I take anywhere from 7.5 to 8 narrow.

25. Pets? Snickers! My butt-headed mutt from the Humane Society

26. Any new and exciting news you would like to share with us? I have been exercising almost every day since December 5th!!! I only missed 4 days so far!!!

27. What did you want to be when you were little? an author. Barring that, I wanted to be a physicist. Seriously, I did!

28. How are you today? Aunt Flo has come to call. So back away from me before I eat your head.

29. What is your favorite candy? Reese's Pieces. Where else do you think my character Venus got her obsession???

30. What is your favorite flower? roses

31. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? September 17-20th, the American Christian Fiction Writers’ conference in Denver, Colorado

32. What is your full name? Uh, wouldn't you know that if I answered the middle name question?

33. What are you listening to right now? I answered it earlier, but I’ve also got an audiobook on my iPod, You: On a Diet.

34. What was the last thing you ate? a sandwich of homemade flour tortilla with homemade refried beans and a little chicken breast with lettuce.

35. Do you wish on stars? No. Who thinks of these questions?

36. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK! PINK!

37. How is the weather right now? Cool, but nothing compared to someplace like Nebraska or Minnesota.

38. What is your favorite drink? Hot black tea with milk and honey

39. What is your favorite restaurant? Alexander’s steak house in Mountain View. They’ve not only got good beef, they also always have interesting appetizers and desserts, nothing typical.

40. Siblings? one brother

41. Favorite day of the year? Christmas break, when Captain Caffeine has time off to spend at home with me. :)

42. What was your favorite toy as a child? My books

43. Summer or winter? Neither, Spring and Fall. Once again, who comes up with these questions???

44. Hugs or kisses? You mean I have to pick one? This meme is getting stupider by the minute.

45. Coffee or tea? I like both, but usually drink tea.

46. Chocolate or vanilla? Why do I have to pick one? It depends on what I’m eating it with.

47. Do you want your friends to email you back? I always want my friends to email me back.

48. When was the last time you cried? I think a few days ago when I was watching Animal Cops.

49. What’s under your bed? Enough dust bunnies to make a blanket, old clothes, and my packaged-up wedding dress (what a waste of money that was ... the dress, not the packaging up. We should have skipped the stress and eloped.)

50. Who is the friend you have had the longest? Hmmm ... I think Cheryl Wyatt. I don’t really keep in touch with any of my friends from before I started writing.

51. What did you do last night? Watched CSI: NY on Tivo with Captain Caffeine.

52. Favorite smell? roasting garlic

53. What are you afraid of? Falling

54. Salty or sweet? Definitely salty. Gimme potato chips and French fries anyday.

55. How many keys on your ring? 7

56. How many years at your current job? Writer: 6 years, although I wasn’t writing full time all those 6 years, only the last 2

57. Favorite day of the week? Friday

58. How many towns have you lived in? 7

59. Do you make friends easily? I would hope so.

60. How many people will you send this to? All my blog readers!!!

Excerpt - The Centurion's Wife by Davis Bunn and Janette Oke

This week, the

Christian Fiction Blog Alliance

is introducing

The Centurion's Wife

Bethany House Publishers (January 1, 2009)

by

Davis Bunn and Janette Oke


ABOUT THE AUTHORS:
Davis Bunn is an internationally acclaimed author who has sold more than six million books in fifteen languages. His audiences span reading genres from high drama and action thrillers to heartwarming relationship stories, in both contemporary and historical settings.

Honored with three Christy Awards for excellence in historical and suspense fiction, his bestsellers include My Soul To Keep, and Full Circle. A sought-after lecturer in the art of writing, Bunn was named Novelist in Residence at Regent's Park College, Oxford University.

He and his wife, Isabella, make their home in Florida for some of each year, and spend the rest near Oxford, England, where they each teach and write.


Her first novel, a prairie love story titled Love Comes Softly, was published by Bethany House in 1979. This book was followed by more than 75 others.

After Love Comes Softly was published, Oke found her readers asking for more. That book led to a series of eight others in her Love Comes Softly series. She has written multiple fiction series, including The Canadian West, Seasons of the Heart and Women of the West. Her most recent releases include a beautiful children's picture book, I Wonder...Did Jesus Have a Pet Lamb and The Song of Acadia series, co-written with T. Davis Bunn.

Janette Oke's warm writing style has won the hearts of millions of readers. She has received numerous awards, including the Gold Medallion Award, The Christy Award of Excellence, the 1992 President's Award for her significant contribution to the category of Christian fiction from the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association, and in 1999 the Life Impact Award from the Christian Booksellers Association International. Beloved worldwide, her books have been translated into fourteen languages.

She and her husband live nearby in Alberta, Canada.


ABOUT THE BOOK

Janette Oke has dreamed for years of retelling a story in a biblical time frame from a female protagonist's perspective, and Davis Bunn is elated to be working with her again on this sweeping saga of the dramatic events surrounding the birth of Christianity...and the very personal story of Leah, a young Jewess of mixed heritage trapped in a vortex of competing political agendas and private trauma.

Caught up in the maelstrom following the death of an obscure rabbi in the Roman backwater of first-century Palestine, Leah finds herself also engulfed in her own turmoil--facing the prospect of an arranged marriage to a Roman soldier, Alban, who seems to care for nothing but his own ambitions.

Head of the garrison near Galilee, he has been assigned by Palestine's governor to ferret out the truth behind rumors of a political execution gone awry. Leah's mistress, the governor's wife, secretly commissions Leah also to discover what really has become of this man whose death--and missing body--is causing such furor.

This epic drama is threaded with the tale of an unlikely romance and framed with dangers and betrayals from unexpected sources. At its core, the story unfolds the testing of loyalties--between two young people whose inner searchings they cannot express, between their irreconcilable heritages, and ultimately between their humanity and the Divine they yearn to encounter.

Excerpt of chapter one:

The Centurion's Wife

Bethany House Publishers (January 1, 2009)



Chapter One



AD 33, Caesarea, Judaea Province
Six Days Before Passover

Usually Leah followed the path briskly from the main kitchen to the baths. Today, with the Mediterranean breeze caressing her face and the sun not yet a scorching heat overhead, she could not help but slow her steps. She lifted her eyes at the cry of the seabirds. How peaceful it appeared. Only a few clouds hung in the sky, like a flock of spring lambs. Down below the walkway, sea waves lapped gently along the promontory's edge. Not even the first stirrings within the palace compound behind her could diminish her sense of delight.

For one further moment Leah drank it all in, her gaze sweeping across the panorama before her. Finally she turned away from the vast blue sea and studied the beauty of the city's setting.

Caesarea stretched like a royal necklace along the seafront, with the palace of Pontius Pilate its centermost jewel. From her position upon the rocky point, Leah studied the elaborate courtyard with its columns and statuary, the opulent ceramic-tiled baths, and the impressive marbled façade of the palace itself. Broad, grand entrance steps rose up to gold double doors. In different circumstances, Leah would have found it all impossibly beautiful. Even though she had been raised as no stranger to fine things and elegant living, never had she dreamed of residing in the palace of the prelate of Judaea. Yet here she stood, strangely a part of it all.

In different circumstances ...

It was the first occasion in a long time that Leah's thoughts had flown across years and countries to her grandmother. Whatever would she think of Leah now, standing here amid such splendor? Leah recalled how the old woman often stroked her face and said, "I see great things in store for you, my little one." Then she would pat her generous silk-gowned bosom with bejeweled fingers, as though sealing the promise in her heart. Her dear grandmother. What Leah would give for just a few hours with her beloved grandparent now. But she had been gone for eight long years. Leah would have that opportunity no more.

Leah sighed and turned away from the opulence of the palace and back to the contrasting beauty of the sea. Its surface sparkles like Grandmother's jewels. How easy it would be on such a dawn to overlook the reality that she was here because she had no recourse.

Far beyond the rolling waves lay her real home. True, there was no longer any place for her there, but it still held her heart. Would she ever see Verona again? And in Rome, her mother faced a new dawn as well. Alone. Bereft. Leah yearned to be with her, offering what love and comfort she was able. But she remained trapped within this imposing palace of a Roman prelate, surrounded by elegance she could appreciate only from a distance. Yes, she had been born to wealth and position, yet here she stood, little more than a slave. Bitterness filled her throat and caught her breath.

Another thought chased through her mind. If nothing more, she faced an easier circumstance than her two older sisters. She was free in spirit, if not in body. She was able to call her life her own, even if it was a life of servanthood. She would far rather be a servant in Pilate's household than slave to a man she neither loved nor respected, who ruled her every move. Hers was a bondage far more easily endured, she was sure.

Leah cast one more longing look over the blue expanse of sea, and with a determined lift of her shoulders walked on toward the bathhouse. Her first duties of the day would have her laying out fresh towels and robes and making sure that all the expensive unguents and soaps were readily available.

You must take what is good from the world for yourself, a quiet but firm voice echoed in her memory, for the world will never come to you with outstretched hand. Her father's words. Yet even as she recalled them, she was forced to admit that the philosophy had brought even him no lasting rewards.

* * *

The next morning, Leah's demanding day suddenly veered toward chaos. Like every other servant in Pilate's household, she always dreaded word that the prelate was moving to Jerusalem. For the servants and slaves it meant that their normal duties, already keeping them busy from early morning to late night, were multiplied many times over.

Leah struggled to meet the increasingly frantic pace. She had felt well enough the night before, when she had finally finished the day's work and retired to her pallet in the servants' quarters. Yet during the night she had tossed fitfully, and when she had lifted a hand to her brow, she knew she had a fever. Before dawn she had gone to the kitchen for water. She had slept some again and hoped her discomfort would pass. But now her strength drained away as her activities mounted along with the day's heat.

Leah knew her mistress, Pilate's wife, noted how sluggish Leah was that morning. She tried to add quickness to her step and lightness to her countenance. A servant's misfortunes, whatever their source, were not permitted to taint the lady's day.

But as the hours wore on, Leah found she was unable to sustain the brave front. Her body felt like it carried its own fire pit. Her stomach was unsettled, and she ached with a dreadful bone weariness from her head to her feet.

She touched her face with one hand, and her own fingers felt the unusual warmth. Though this was the first time she had ever suffered with the fever that swept the land at every winter's close, Leah knew its symptoms. She could feel the slow burn begin to scorch her limbs. I don't have time to be ill, she groaned inwardly. Not today!

A palace guard appeared from around the corner of the bathhouse and glanced her way. Despite the late afternoon light and the distance, Leah could see the scowl that touched his face. Had he noticed something? Were her steps dragging? Was she staggering? She forced herself to keep moving. Even though the sun was dropping into the western horizon, there was still much to be done. For on the morrow they all would leave for Jerusalem, where Pontius Pilate would take charge of maintaining the peace during the annual Passover festival.

She reluctantly turned away toward the servants' quarters. Maybe if she could rest for a few moments.... Midway there, however, she felt as though a wave from the sea were rising up and sweeping over her. She grabbed the wall as the light dimmed to grey, uncertain even where she was. She heard a voice call her name but did not have the strength to respond.

Leah did not fear the darkness that rose up to claim her. In fact, she welcomed it.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Refried beans recipe

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.20.2009

I’m afraid I forgot to take pictures, but this recipe is just too good not to share.

I love Mexican food, and I love bean burritos. So I thought I’d try to make homemade refried beans, because people I’ve talked to said that the homemade stuff is tons better than the canned stuff.

I found this recipe, which cooks the beans in a pressure cooker, plus you don’t have to presoak them overnight. Makes the entire process very easy.

The frying/mashing part took less than 15 minutes. I used less oil than they called for—only a tablespoon versus two—and added more cooking water from the beans.

I varied the recipe a bit by frying the onion with chopped garlic (lots and lots of chopped garlic!). I also stirred in cumin (lots and lots of cumin!) with the salt. It made for very tasty beans!

The homemade beans were a lot creamier than the canned stuff, plus the flavor was more intense, probably because of the extra garlic and cumin. And they were so easy to make, too—the pressure cooking took less than an hour, and most of that was doing other stuff while it cooked, I didn’t even have to baby the pot. The frying and mashing part took less than 15 minutes. Because I used so little oil, the beans were very low fat.

I made quesadillas with my homemade tortillas, and MAN WERE THEY GREAT!

Monday, January 19, 2009

Mincemeat tarts

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.19.2009

Naturally, since I’m giving away healthy living books today, I have to blog about food. LOL

I have never had mincemeat, although I read about them in my Regency historical romances and I had an English coworker once who described them to me. I know they’re traditionally eaten at Christmas, and I wanted to try one at some point but never had the opportunity.

Then Captain Caffeine saw this box of commercially made mincemeat tarts at Marshall’s right after Christmas.

The fact they’re made with Glenfiddich single malt scotch whiskey is the main reason he bought it, but it happened to coincide with my desire to try mincemeat.

So we heated them up according to the package directions and tried them.

They weren’t bad, but BOY OH BOY was the whiskey strong in those puppies. I liked the currants in them, but Captain Caffeine didn’t care for them because he dislikes raisins, and the currants were too much like the texture of small raisins for him.

All in all, an interesting flavor but not mind-boggling. I’d probably feel differently if they were homemade and fresher, but it was good just to try.

Anyone who likes mincemeat out there?

Book giveaway - Never Say Diet and The Never Say Diet Personal Fitness Trainer by Chantel Hobbs

Captain's Log, Stardate 01.19.2009

The winner of
Kiss
by
Ted Dekker and Erin Healy
is
Wordlily
Congratulations!

Blog book giveaway:

To enter to win today’s book, leave a comment on this blog post, giving your name and saying you want to enter. International readers are welcome to enter!

Please leave an email address or website where I can contact you (please use this format--you [at] yourmail.com--or something like that to prevent spammers from trolling for your email address). It is the winner’s responsibility to check to see if you won and to email me if you haven’t yet heard from me.

I always email the winner and give them a week to reply, but if I don’t receive an answer, I will pull another person to win the book. I am not responsible for a lost opportunity if you leave an email address you don’t check frequently.

Only one entry per person. The winner can expect their free book in 4-6 weeks.

You have a week to comment--I'll pick a name out of a hat on Monday, January 26th. (BTW, you can post a comment and NOT enter, too.)

Today I’m giving away:

Two books to one winner:

Never Say Diet: Make Five Decisions and Break the Fat Habit for Good
by
Chantel Hobbs

Chantel Hobbs lost two hundred pounds without the help of surgery, pills, point systems, or a trendy diet. And just as important, she kept the weight off.

Her dramatic turnaround began with five decisions–personal, no-excuses commitments that kept her from losing sight of her goals. It worked for Chantel and it will work for you. Once you unconditionally change your mind your body will follow, and your life will never be the same.

In this book you will discover:

·How to move beyond past failures and get over your old excuses
·How changing your eating patterns can break food’s hold over you
·Why winning the weight-loss battle must come from the inside out
·The simple workouts that deliver lasting results and are fun to do
·How to overcome the naysayers, the diet police, and your own nagging doubts
·How to prioritize your health, juggle family and career, and stay motivated when life takes unexpected turns
·Why the diet industry wants you to keep coming back
·And much more!

You will find straight talk on developing the determination, commitment, and personal responsibility it takes to achieve weight loss that lasts. It’s time to stop getting ready for the event and start getting ready for life!

The Never Say Diet Personal Fitness Trainer: Sixteen Weeks to Achieve Your Goal of a Healthy Lifestyle
by
Chantel Hobbs


If you want to lose weight for good, learn a secret from Chantel Hobbs: to change your life you first have to change the way you think.
After years of failed diets, Chantel discovered the power of the “brain change.” She made five nonnegotiable decisions, developed a balanced plan for exercise and nutrition, and lost 200 pounds. Now, through writing, speaking, and her work as a personal trainer, she inspires others to achieve far more than they thought possible.

With Never Say Diet, you can:
•Ditch your self-defeating habits and start dreaming big again
•Develop a driving passion for personal fitness
•Look at food as fuel and not as your best friend
•Learn how God wants to help you win!

Put an end to the diet drama. Whether you want to lose fifteen pounds, fifty, or one hundred fifty, Chantel will show you how to make your commitments stick–producing results that last!

It’s not easy, but it really is as simple as it sounds. First you lose your excuses, then you lose weight for good. You’ll never say “diet” again.

Click here to read excerpts of both books.

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To find out about the differences between my blog giveaways, my newsletter giveaways, and my website contest, click here.

Excerpt - THE RED SIREN by M.L. Tyndall

Today's Wild Card author is:





and the book:



The Red Siren

Barbour Publishing, Inc (January 2009)


Camy here: I'll be giving a copy of this book away on January 26th!


You'll be swept away by this latest historical romance by bestselling author M. L. Tyndall. Faith Westcott is a lady by day and a pirate by night. Can she garner the riches she so desperately needs before her secret is revealed? Captain Dajon Waite is determined to catch the fiery redhead who has been pillaging the Carolina coast. When Faith invites his courtship, she hopes his infatuation will shield her true identity and keep other suitors at bay. Can the love of a godly captain win her heart, or will she be forced to marry Sir Wilhelm Carteret, a man obsessed with taking her to wife?


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:




Best-selling author of The Legacy of the King’s Pirates series, MaryLu Tyndall writes full time and makes her home with her husband, six children, and four cats on California’s coast. Her passion is to write page-turning, romantic adventures that not only entertain but expose Christians to their full potential in Christ.



For more information on MaryLu and her upcoming releases, please visit her website.



Product Details:



List Price: $10.97

Paperback: 318 pages

Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc (January 2009)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1602601569

ISBN-13: 978-1602601567



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:





But he who received the seed on stony places, this is he who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no root in himself, but endures only for a while. For when tribulation or persecution arises because of the word, immediately he stumbles.



Matthew 13: 20-21



Chapter 1





August 1713, English Channel off Portsmouth, England





This was Dajon Waite’s last chance. If he didn’t sail his father’s merchant ship and the cargo she held safely into harbor, his future would be tossed to the wind. With his head held high, he marched across the deck of the Lady Em and gazed over the choppy seas of the channel, expecting at any minute to see the lights of Portsmouth pierce the gray shroud of dusk. Another hour and his mission would be completed with success. It had taken two years before his father had trusted him to captain the most prized vessel in his merchant fleet, the Lady Em—named after Dajon’s mother, Emily—especially on a journey that had taken him past hostile France and Spain and then far into the pirate-infested waters off the African coast.



Fisting his hands on his hips, Dajon puffed out his chest and drew a deep breath of salty air and musky earth—the smell of home. Returning with a shipload of ivory, gold, and pepper from the Gold Coast, Dajon could almost see the beaming approval on his father’s sea-weathered face. Finally Dajon would prove himself an equal to his older brother, Theodore—obedient, perfect Theodore—who never let his father down. Dajon, however, had been labeled naught but capricious and unruly, the son who possessed neither the courage for command nor the brains for business.



Fog rolled in from the sea, obscuring the sunset into a dull blend of muted colors as it stole the remaining light of what had been a glorious day. Bowing his head, Dajon thanked God for His blessing and protection on the voyage.



“A sail, a sail!” a coarse voice blared from above.



Plucking the spyglass from his belt, Dajon held it to his eye. “Where away, Mules?”



“Directly off our lee, Captain.”



Dajon swerved the glass to the port and adjusted it as Cudney, his first mate, halted beside him.



“She seems to be foundering, Captain,” Mules shouted.



Through the glass, the dark outline of a ship came into focus, the whites of her sails stark against the encroaching night. Gray smoke spiraled up from her quarterdeck as sailors scrambled across her in a frenzy. The British flag flapped a harried plea from her mainmast.



“Hard to larboard,” he yelled aft, lowering the glass. “Head straight for her, Mr. Nelson.”



“Straight for her, sir.”



“Beggin’ your pardon, Captain.” Cudney gave him a sideways glance. “But didn’t your father give explicit orders never to approach an unknown vessel?”



“My father is not the captain of this ship, and I’ll thank you to obey my orders without question.” Dajon stiffened his lips, tired of having his decisions challenged. True, he had failed on two of his father’s prior ventures—one to the West Indies where a hurricane sunk his ship, and the other where he ran aground on the shoals off Portugal. Neither had been his fault. But this time, things would be different. Perhaps his father would even promote Dajon to head overseer of his affairs.



With a nod, Cudney turned. “Mr. Blake, Mr. Gibes, prepare to luff, if you please.” His bellowing voice echoed over the decks, sending the men up the shrouds.



“Who is she?” Cudney held out his hand for the glass.



“A merchant ship, perhaps.” Dajon handed him the telescope then gripped the railing as the Lady Em veered to larboard, sending a spray of seawater over her decks. “But she’s British, and she’s in trouble.”



The ship lumbered over the agitated waves. Dajon watched Cudney as he steadied the glass on his eye and his boots on the sodden deck. He’d been a good first mate and a trusted friend. A low whistle spilled from his mouth as he twisted the glass for a better look.



“Pray tell, Mr. Cudney, what has caught your eye, one of those new ship’s wheels you’ve been coveting?”



“Nay, Captain. But something nearly as beautiful—a lady.”



Dajon snatched the glass back as the Lady Em climbed a rising swell and then tromped down the other side. Sails snapped in the rising wind above him. Bracing his boots on the deck, he focused the glass on the merchant ship. A woman clung to the foremast, terror distorting her lovely features. She raised a delicate hand to her forehead as if she were going to faint. Red curls fluttered in the wind behind her. Heat flooded Dajon despite the chill of the channel. Lowering the glass, he tapped it into the palm of his hand, loathing himself for his shameless reaction. Hadn’t his weakness for the female gender already caused enough pain?



Yet clearly the vessel was in trouble.



“We shall come along side her,” Dajon ordered.



Cudney glared at the ship. “Something is not right. I can feel it in my gut.”



“Nonsense. Where is your chivalry?” Dajon smiled grimly at his friend, ignoring the hair bristling on the back of his own neck.



Cudney’s dark eyes shot to Dajon. “But your father—”



“Enough!” Dajon snapped. “My father did not intend for me to allow a lady to drown. Besides, pirates would not dare sail so close to England—especially to Portsmouth, where so many of His Majesty’s warships are anchored.” Dajon glanced back at the foundering ship, now only half a knot off their bow. Smoke poured from her waist, curling like a snake into the dark sky. Left to burn, the fire would sink her within an hour. “Surely you do not suspect a woman of piracy?”



Cudney cocked one brow. “Begging your pardon, Captain, but I have seen stranger things on these seas.”



***



Faith Louise Westcott flung her red curls behind her and held a quivering hand to her breast, nausea rising in her throat at her idiotic display. How did women feign such weakness without losing the contents of their stomachs?



“They ’ave taken the bait, mistress.” A sinister chuckle filled the breeze.



“Oh, thank heavens.” Faith released the mast. Planting a hand on her hip, she gave Lucas a mischievous grin. “Well, what are you waiting for? Ready the men.”



“Aye, aye.” The bulky first mate winked, and then scuttled across the deck, his bald head gleaming in the light from the lantern hanging on the mainmast.



After checking the pistol stuffed in the sash of her gown and the one strapped to her calf, Faith sauntered to the railing to get a better look at her latest victim, a sleek, two-masted brigantine. The orange, white, and blue of the Dutch flag fluttered from her mizzen. A very nice prize indeed. One that would bring her even closer to winning the private war she waged—a war for the survival of her and her sisters.



The oncoming ship sat low in the water, its hold no doubt packed with valuable cargo. Faith grinned. With this ship and the one she had plundered earlier, loaded with precious spices and silks, she was well on her way to amassing the fortune that would provide for her independence and that of her sisters—at least the two of them that were left unfettered by matrimony.



She allowed her thoughts to drift for a moment to Charity, the oldest. Last year their father had forced her into a union with Lord Villement, a vile, perverse man who had oppressed and mistreated her beyond what a woman should endure. Faith feared for her sister’s safety and prayed for God to deliver Charity, but to no avail.



Then, of course, there was the incident with Hope, their younger sister.



That was when Faith had stopped praying.



She would rather die than see her two younger sisters fettered to abusive men, and the only way to avoid that fate was to shield them with their own fortune. Cringing, she stifled the fury bubbling in her stomach. She mustn’t think of it now. She had a ship to plunder, and this was as much for Charity as it was for any of them.



The bowsprit of the brigantine bowed in obedience to her as it plunged over the white-capped swells. Gazing into the hazy mist, Faith longed to get a peek at the ninnies who had been so easily duped by her ruse but dared not raise the spyglass to her eye. Women didn’t know how to use such contraptions, after all.



Putting on her most flirtatious smile, she waved at her prey, beckoning the fools onward, then she scanned the deck as her crew rushed to their stations. Aboard her ship, she was in control; she was master of her life, her future—here and nowhere else. And oh how she loved it!



Lucas’s large frame appeared beside her. “The rest of the men be waitin’ yer command below hatches, mistress.” He smacked his oversized lips together in a sound Faith had become accustomed to before a battle. Nodding, she scanned her ship. Wilson manned the helm, Grayson and Lambert hovered over the fire, pretending to put it out, and Kane and Mac clambered up the ratlines in a pretense of terror. She spotted Morgan pacing the special perch Faith had nailed into the mainmast just for him. She whistled and the red macaw halted, bobbed his head up and down, and squawked, “Man the guns, man the guns!”



Faith chuckled. She had purchased the bird from a trader off Morocco and named him after Captain Henry Morgan, the greatest pirate of all time. The feisty parrot had been a fine addition to her crew.



Bates, her master gunner, hobbled to her side, wringing his thick hands together in anticipation. “Can I just fire one shot at ’em, Cap’n? The guns grow cold from lack of use.” His expression twisted into a pout that reminded her of Hope, her younger sister. “I won’t hurt ’em none, ye have me word.”



“I cannot take that chance, Bates. You know the rules,” Faith said as the gunner’s soot-blackened face fell in disappointment. “No one gets hurt, or we abandon the prize. But I promise we shall test the guns soon enough.”



With a grunt, Bates wobbled away and disappeared below.



Returning her gaze to her unsuspecting prey, Faith inhaled a breath of the crisp air. Smoke bit her throat and nose, but she stifled a cough as the thrill of her impending victory charged through her, setting every nerve aflame. The merchant ship was nigh upon them. She could already make out the worried expressions upon the crew’s faces as they charged to her rescue.



This is for you, Charity, and for you, Mother.



Heavy fog blanketed the two ships in gray that darkened with each passing minute. Faith tugged her shawl tighter against her body, both to ward off the chill and to hide the pistol in her sash. A vision of her mother’s pale face formed in the fog before her, blood marring the sheets on the birthing bed where she lay.



Take care of your sisters, Faith.



A burst of wind chilled Faith’s moist cheeks. A tear splattered onto the deck by her shoes before she brushed the rest from her face. “I will, Mother. I promise.”



“Ahoy there!” A booming voice shattered her memories.



She raised her hand in greeting toward the brigantine as it heaved ten yards off their starboard beam. “Ahoy, kind sir. Thank God you have arrived in time,” she yelled back, sending the sailors scurrying across the deck. Soon, they lowered a cockboat, filled it with men, and shoved off.



A twinge of guilt poked at Faith’s resolve. These men had come to her aid with kind intentions. She swallowed hard, trying to drown her nagging conscience. They were naught but rich merchants, she told herself, and she, merely a Robin Hood of the seas, taking from the rich to feed the poor. She had exhausted all legal means of acquiring the money she needed, and present society offered her no other choice.



The boat thumped against her hull, and she nodded at Kane and Mac, who had jumped down from the shrouds and tossed the rope ladder over the side.



“Permission to come aboard?” The man who appeared to be the captain shouted toward Lucas as he swung his legs over the bulwarks, but his eyes were upon Faith.



By all means. Faith shoved a floppy fisherman’s hat atop her head, obscuring her features from his view, and smiled sweetly.



***



“Aye, I beg ye, be quick about it afore our ship burns to a cinder,” the massive bald man beckoned to Dajon.



Dajon hesitated. He knew he should obey his father’s instructions, he knew he shouldn’t risk the hoard of goods in his hold, he knew he should pay heed to the foreboding of dread that now sank like a anchor in his stomach, but all he could see was the admiring smile of the red-haired beauty, and he led his men over the bulwarks.



After directing them to assist in putting out the fire, he marched toward the dark, bald man and bowed.



“Captain Dajon Waite at your service.”



When his gaze drifted to the lady, she slunk into the shadows by the foremast, her features lost beneath the cover of her hat. Odd. Somehow he had envisioned a much warmer reception. At the very least, some display of feminine appreciation.



“Give ’em no quarter! Give ’em no quarter!” a shrill voice shrieked, drawing Dajon’s attention behind him to a large red parrot perched on a peg jutting from the mainmast.



A pinprick of fear stabbed him.



“Captain,” one of his crew called from the quarterdeck. “The ship ain’t on fire. It’s just a barrel with flaming rubbish inside it!”



The anchor that had sunk in Dajon’s stomach dropped into his boots with an ominous clank.



He spun back around, hoping for an explanation, but all he received was a sinister grin on the bald man’s mouth.



Tentacles of alarm seized Dajon, sucking away his confidence, his reason, his pride. Surely he could not have been this daft. He glanced back at the Lady Em, bobbing in the sea beside them—the pride of his father’s fleet.



“To battle, men!” The woman roared in a voice belying her gender—a voice that pummeled Dajon’s heart to dust.



Dozens of armed pirates spat from the hatches onto the deck. Brandishing weapons, they hurtled toward his startled crew. One by one, his men dropped their buckets to the wooden planks with hollow thuds and slowly raised their hands. Their anxious gazes shot to Dajon, seeking his command. The pirates chortled. Dajon’s fear exploded into a searing rage. They were surrounded.



The woman drew a pistol from her sash. Dajon could barely make out the tilted lift of her lips. He wiped the sweat from his brow and prayed to God that he would wake up from this nightmare.



“I thank you, Captain, for your chivalrous rescue.” The woman pointed her pistol at him and cocked it with a snap. “But I believe I’ll be taking over your ship.”

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