Blog

Really!?!

Today is January 6th. First and foremost it is the birthday of the woman who brought me forth. I.E…my mom’s birthday. So, Happy Birthday, Mom. Thanks for letting me cut my teeth on soap operas. Really? Just kidding. It paid off. Really.

Shush, everyone, it’s my mom’s birthday. Make her feel nice.

So here we go, ladies and gents!

On January 6th, 1994, Nancy Kerrigan took a hit to the knee, thanks to the original mean girl Tonya Harding. 

Really? Couldn’t Tonya just skate better, drop out, or hire men to bust out her knee? Thus getting the ooohs and aaahs from fans all over the world. It’s called positive attention, Tonya. Really.

On January 6th, 2011, the Romanian government reformed its tax policy, sticking it–for the first time ever– to occupational fortune-tellers, astrologers, and witches. Some of the witches were so outraged, they threatened to curse the government. Curse it I say!

Really? For the love, witches, you’re being recognized as legit. Pay the taxes. You can now write off your brooms, eye of newt, tarot cards, and white sheets for solstice dancing. Really.

And by the way, do witches pay taxes in America? Probably just the middle class ones.

And

On January 6th, 1681, the first boxing match was recorded. Starring the Duke of Albemarle’s butler vs. the butcher. I’d like to tell you these were their boxing names like the Italian Stallion. But I can’t. 

Really? Fighting employees? Shouldn’t they be butlering and butchering? It’s like fighting your pets. But then look at him. What else does he have going for him? Really.

Have a great weekend! Stop in Monday and meet my good friend and talented writer, Heather Sunseri!

What blows your mind enough to say, “Really?” 
(Do not say this blog post. ;))

One Word in 2012: Strength

Monday was my silly–not too serious–writer post but today is my devotional post. And I’m serious. 🙂 

I read a post back in December by Beth Vogt at My Book Therapy Ponderers blog. You can read it here. She said, “consider this invitation: Don’t make any New Year’s resolutions this year. Instead, pick a word. Just one word. And then focus on embracing that word, living that word, for the next 365 days starting January 1, 2012.”

Something about her post struck a major chord in me. I felt like God wanted me to do this. But what was the word? I pondered on it and prayed about it for weeks. I never seemed to get it, but I knew I would and I knew it wouldn’t be too late.
One morning, in late December–right before I was completely awake– the Lord spoke my word to me. 
Strength.
I’ve had some issues with my trapezus muscles. And I went from running a 5K to barely being able to jog one mile, simply because I haven’t stayed consistent. Obviously, my mind went straight to physical strength, but then as I thought…emotional strength, continued strength in my relationship with God…but that wasn’t exactly what He was saying.
On December 22nd, 2011, I got up and read my small Word for Today devotional. I had no real direction that morning. I flipped open my Bible and glanced down (this happens occasionally) and my eyes met Psalm 84:5-7.
“Blessed is the man whose strength is in You, whose heart is set on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baca they make it a spring; The rain also covers it with pools. They go from strength to strength; Each one appears before God in Zion.” 
The Lord whispered to me, “These are your life verses for 2012. Study it. I’m not simply talking about exercise, but you’re not getting out of that.” 
Poo. 
 I pulled up my study tools  and realized there’s much more to what God wants from me than what I thought on my own. 
In the KJV, the verse is: “Blessed is the man whose strength is in thee, in whose heart are the ways of them.”
The Hebrew word for strength in verse 5 is, “oz” and it means, “might, strength–material or physical, personal, social, or political.” Political also means influence.
“Whose heart is in thee” in Hebrew is “lebab” and this phrase means:
1. In the midst of things
2. heart (of man)
3. soul
4. mind, knowledge, thinking, reflection, memory
5. resolution, determination (of will)
6. conscience
7. moral character
8. seat of appetites, emotions, passions
9. seat of courage
Strength in all of these areas. 
“Are the ways of them” in Hebrew is, “mecilalah” and it means, “highway, raised way, public road.” Pilgrimage is the word in NKJV.
A journey…a road to travel…one people will see
Verse 6 says, “As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a spring.” Baca means weeping.
The pilgrimage will be difficult; it’ll involve weeping (as least God is honest up front) but in those times, if my heart is with Him, those difficult times of weeping, can become times of refreshing…springs…pools…
V. 7  “they go from strength to strength.” This word isn’t the same Hebrew word as in verse 5. It’s “Chayil” and it means, “ability, efficiency, wealth, army.”
This road, this journey will take me from strength to strength, it will give me the ability to perform Kingdom tasks, not just writing for Him, but in all things He asks. I will be efficient, and my soul will become prosperous…I will be a soldier…
I won’t lie and say I’m not afraid. 
Strength is my weakness.
But I serve a mighty God, who loves me.

In fact, so much that a couple of days after this, I said to Him on the way to work, “Lord, I need a new Bible Study. I’m not writing one and when I’m not, I need one!” I planned on  hitting Lifeway after the holidays. That night, my good friend, my godly friend and Bible teacher, Donna Pyle sent me a message. “I need your address, I’m sending you my new Bible study w/ DVDS!”

Thank you, God! When I got it in the mail a few days ago, I read the title.

“YOUR STRONG SUIT” 

Get out! Nope, that’s the kind of God we serve! Donna had no idea about my ONE WORD! Visit her site (blog) and by all means, order her Bible Study! I know God has plans to speak to me through this study.

Let God give you a word. We’ll work on them together.
I’m writing this today as an encouragement to you. God has plans for you this year. He wants to develop you in every area of that one word, just like He wants to develop me in this area. And I’m writing it to keep an online journal of this journey. I’m sharing it. Publicly. 
This year, each Wednesday, I’ll be doing a devotion based on something God has spoken to me about strength. Join with me. Keep me accountable! And share with me what you’re learning and how you’re growing. 
A special thanks to Beth Vogt for sharing her post about one words. 
May God bless you for it, Beth.

Also another special thanks to Melanie Moore for giving me my Strength blog button for FREE! Check it out at the sidebar! Her one word this year is giving, and she’s begun by offering customized ONE WORD blog buttons. How sweet is she? Thanks, Melanie! 

I’m hosting at Living By Grace today. Come over and chat, encourage someone, be lifted up!

What about you? Do you have a goal, one word, an area you plan to grow in this new year? Care to share?

My Top 4 New Year Plans As a Writer



I missed you! Hope you a wonderful Christmas and NYE! 

Today is a repost from last year (but I had maybe 10 followers so you probably haven’t read it), anywho, since I haven’t accomplished any of them,  I’m giving it a go again! On Wednesday, I’ll be posting a more serious plan–as in ONE WORD for the year and tying it into a devotional so don’t miss it! Today? Enjoy!

Well, a year has come and is about to be gone. Profound, I know. I’ve been hearing lots of New Year’s resolutions. The same ones I hear every year. Lose weight. Eat healthier. Spend more time with family. Those seem to be the top three.
I don’t make resolutions. I make plans. Maybe they are resolutions. I just call them personal plans for the new year.

This year, I’m going to work on a few that involve the debilitation of being a writer. You writers may get to shout a few amens in agreement, and those of you who are not…this may explain my eccentric and sometimes morbid behavior.

Here are a few areas I need to work on.

1. FOCUS AND LISTEN

I have a hard time NOT daydreaming up new plots and storylines, like when I’m at church. Pastor is preaching and delivering the word and I watch the sweet elderly lady who passes out handfuls of candy–throwing it really–and all I see are members of the congregation, dropping like flies because the candy has been poisoned. The old woman is shocked when she finds out, declaring she didn’t do it as they drag her poor soul off in cuffs. I look around and find a single mom sitting two rows back and use her to refuse to believe old lady “nameless” has poisoned the church. What motive does she have? She enlists, I look around and find a young widowed man, ah him, yes!… and together they investigate. (and fall in love duh!) At this point I’m jerked back into reality as our Pastor says, “Answer me when I ask you a question.” I don’t know if I should holler yes, no, or amen. Have I just missed a word for me? What was that reference again? My husband scowls at me…knowing. My best friend leans over and asks, “Who did it? The Royal Ranger teacher or the Youth Pastor?”

This may be the hardest goal for me. I can find a story in anything! Just two days ago, my friend shared with me about her nephew and some of his nefarious behavior. Immediately I explained to her why he was a narcissist sociopath, on his way to becoming a homicidal maniac, and then instead of offering to pray for him…I asked if she could get me about thirty minutes alone with him to pick his demented juvenile mind and test my theory. Yep. I really did. I was seeing backstory all over the place!

I’m constantly eavesdropping in restaurants, movie lines, grocery stores, doctors’ offices, anywhere I can find crowds of people. I zone out of the conversation at hand–the one I’m supposed to be involved in, and find out that some stranger’s sister stole her boyfriend and she found out from the Hispanic gardener by slip of the tongue. She’s now dating the Hispanic gardener.

2. KNOW WHERE I AM AND WHO I’M WITH
 My husband and I took a trip to Rhode Island last year, he was marrying his cousin! I love saying that!  (He’s an ordained minister.) It was beautiful and it happened to be the setting in a book I was about to write. We sat on the bench at a pier overlooking the water, and he talked and talked. Then he said, “Isn’t this place just beautiful, Jess?”
“Yes, I can see why Scarlet loves it. No wonder Noah can’t leave.” Sigh.

My husband cleared his throat, “Jess,I’ve gotten used to you living in a fictional world, but please tell me you’re at least holding my hand!”
“Hmmm…oh, of course. Definitely.”

3. PAY ATTENTION TO MY KIDS MORE

“Mom, I have pretend people in my head too, but I don’t sit in front of the computer all day and play with them!” My son Myles expressed that after he’d asked for a glass of milk about two hundred times. At least that’s what he said…I never heard him. I’m a master of tuning out what’s going on at home. I stick my skull candy in and I’m off. When I look up, my house looks like a tornado hit it. I’m going to pay attention more and find better balance between writing and spending time with my family.

4. GET OUT MORE (other than to research) 
Before long, my friends are going to stop asking me to do anything!
“You want to come to my jewelry party?”
“No.”
“You wanna get lunch?”
“No.”
“Hey, let’s go shopping!”
“Can’t.”
Right now, they may be plotting an intervention. Every free opportunity I don’t HAVE to be somewhere, I’m at home. In my chair. On my laptop. Writing. Yeah, I need to rekindle my social life.

So there you have it, ladies and gents! My top 4 things to change that pertain to writing. What’s on your list?

Here’s What’s Going on in My Neck of the Woods

Well, we’re inching up on Christmas. It went fast after Thanksgiving, didn’t it? 

I’m done shopping. I’ve wrapped pretty much everyone…well, their gifts, not them. I don’t have that much wrapping paper and what’s the point of wrapping people you know? Or people you don’t, though I’m not sure you could convince them to let you, or even hold them down long enough. 

I’ve made cookies, cinnamon spiced pecans which are crack delightful and addictive because they’re crack delightful and yummy. 

I spent the weekend in IL with my family. We opened an insane amount of gifts, ate to the point I need to make a trip to the altar to confess I am a glutton, but dang if I’m not too lazy to trudge up there. I think laziness might be wrong too. I’ll have to look into that.

I’m kind of diggin the Enya Christmas station on Pandora. What? Don’t laugh. 

Last Tuesday, I sent off my second ms (a first in an FBI series) to my agent so I’m taking the next few weeks off to spend time holiday-ing it with friends and family. I’ll pick back up after Christmas with polishing another ms (a first in a saga ) while praying she likes my second ms as much as she did the first. 

And if my crazy jacked trapezes muscles don’t get their act together and quit giving me fits, I’m stuck doing physical therapy at the first of the year. Sometimes anti-inflammatory drugs and muscle relaxers don’t work. Sigh. Any other writers have this problem? 
And I think that may be all that’s going on around here, which is not much I guess. In fact, you may have stopped reading at Enya  Christmas. I can understand. Only I can’t, because it’s pretty cool. 

I’m taking a blogging break until January 2nd, (this is where everyone begs encourages me not to and I consider it) but I’ll still be posting a devotional at Living By Grace this Wednesday, so “like” the devotional community at the right side panel (scroll down some) and don’t miss out each day as a godly woman shares the Word! Great stuff!

What’s going on in 
your neck of the woods?
Have a Merry Christmas!

Guest Post by Jessica Dotta: How a Little Can Change A Lot

“We have much to be judged on when he comes, slums and battlefields and insane asylums, but these are the symptoms of our illness and the result of our failures in love.” — Madeleine L’Engle

When my brother traveled to the Sudan he had an encounter that changed his life—and as it ends up, mine too.
He stood in Darfur at an orphanage filled with children leftover from the genocide. There were over 800 children, and during the night wild dogs were dragging them off and killing them.
My brother already felt shell-shocked from the travesties he’d witnessed in Uganda.
The day was hot. The sun beat down upon him. His camera had nearly been ruined from all the dust. He’d barely slept. His gear was heavy. Yet his conscience was seared by the numbness he felt, so he turned and confessed to a Sudanese pastor.
“We shall pray right now that your heart will be opened,” he was told.
Not long after that prayer three young children approached Joshua and started to follow him. After a bit, his father nature kicked in and he stopped and sang Father Abraham. It didn’t take long before the four of them were dancing and going through the motions.
When they finished, he asked the children to tell him how they came to be there.
The oldest, a girl, answered. “The soldiers came and shot my mother and father, so I came here.”
The two other children nodded in agreement. “Me, too.”
He was grief struck, but it was what transpired next that tore my heart. “Do you have a Mommy?” The little girl asked my brother.
“Yes,” he answered.
“And a Daddy?”
Again, his answer was yes.
“Oh,” she said, her voice hinting at a strange intermingling of numbness and grief.
Her question stirs me still. For I believe it came from her soul and revealed the thoughts of her heart. She didn’t want to know what his country was like, what kind of food he ate, or what he did for a living. She had her own bullet holes leftover from the genocide. Her world consisted of this single question: Who still had parents and who didn’t?
In her questions I heard her worry and fear. Imagine being trapped in a war-torn country, a land of famine, drought and disease. Imagine trying to survive it as an orphan with death threatening you every hour. No matter how much she’s endured, at the end of the day, she’s still just a little girl. And all she really wants is her Mom and Dad.
I imagined my daughter living as an orphan in the Sudan. If I were shot and dying, it would be my hope that my brothers and sisters would care for her. But what if her aunts and uncles were killed too? What was it then, that her parents hoped?
As members of the body of Christ these children are not alone. They have aunts and uncles. Multitudes and multitudes and multitudes of them. Talk about staggering! These kids are our nieces and nephews! Mine. 
Yours.
So who, I wondered, within the church has the responsibility to step in?
I didn’t like the answer that came. Earlier that week I was shocked to learn that globally I was one of the richest people in the world—even though as an American, I’m pretty poor.
Like it or not I was the rich aunt. I had knowledge of the situation. That made me accountable.
I wasn’t comfortable with the knowledge then, and I’m not comfortable with the knowledge now. But I am determined to do something. Anything.

That day Joshua had in his possession a picture book that someone had asked him to give to someone in the Sudan. It was a children’s book with a story about how we have a Heavenly Father who always loves and cares for us. Joshua read the book and gave it to them.
An American woman took it upon herself to raise the money to build shelter. Every person who donated, even a dollar, helped to create a place where the little girl now sleeps safe from wild dogs.
When Joshua told me he’s going to start a branch of Watermelon Ministries called Media Change, a non-profit encouraging Americans to give up a portion of the money spent on entertainment to serve those fighting world hunger and thirst, I wanted to support it.
For seven years he’s helped non-profits raise money that serves the “least of these.” He’s seen the impact a small investment can have. This is a brand new initiative. He’s not quite ready to launch, but you can sign up and be kept updated at www.mediachange.org. His first goal is garner the support of 10,000 people who are willing to give $10 a month. I’m number #3.
This is only a blog post, but who knows what one blog post can do.
What if the task of helping others isn’t 
as overwhelming as we make it?
Jessica Dotta, Sr. Editor of Inspire a Fire, has earned the right to wear the title of: Social Media Specialist, Consultant, Publicist, Brand Manager, Editor, Writer, Social Activist, and Business Manager. But the only titles that matter to her are: Called – Redeemed – Beloved – Known by the Father – Daughter – Accepted. . . and Mom. Her life has recently undergone a shaking—one that uprooted nearly every trace of her former life. You’ll have forgive her unconventional posts, as she’s still trying to work out her perspective. She knows one thing though. The most humble and worthy person she ever encountered lived in near obscurity—but sent ripples of change into the world. All because he took the time to care about each hurting person he met. He wasn’t Jesus, but he followed the Great Shepherd and left a legacy. She wants to follow that path.

The #1 Gift You Can Give for Christmas

Have you ever wondered what it may have been like for our Savior as He grew from an infant into a Man? I’ve always dreamed about that night, the night he received three special gifts…
The star shone bright in the East as the three men traveled in expectation to see the young Child –the King of all Kings. Their journey was long and stressful, as they had to be careful, for Herod the great earthly king desired to see the young babe slaughtered, unable to grow and usurp his throne.
They came upon an ordinary home, but it had to be the one; the star bathed it in light. The sleepy town of Bethlehem didn’t seem to notice they’d arrived. They knocked on the door of Joseph and his wife Mary. The door opened, the man’s curious eyes studying them.
“May we come in,” the man standing in the middle asked. “We’ve come to worship the Child.” The other men craned their necks to see inside, to simply get a first glimpse.
As Joseph opened the door for the men to enter, they saw the young child sitting on His mother, Mary’s lap.
How precious.
His raven locks covered His head like a cap of soft feathers and his rosy cheeks glowed with delight in seeing visitors. His eyes, that matched his hair, were round and wide with wonder as the men reverently entered the home.
Mary put her Son down and stood as the men of wisdom came before her. The toddler clutched his mother’s tunic with His tiny, chubby hands and peered at the men from behind her. She smiled gently and spoke to the babe. “Come, Yeshua, you have guests. It’s okay.” She urged her Child to let go of her; He was barely two.
The men knelt and continued to stare in awe. Their lips trembled , their throats tightened as they tried to suppress sobs of joy.
How beautiful.
The same man who had asked to come in the home spoke worshipfully. “We’ve brought You gifts, look!” Two of the men opened their gifts before the little King and chuckled as the small baby boy clapped His hands in delight. The boxes alone were stunning and His eyes flickered with joy.
“Go ahead, Yeshua, see Your gifts,” Mary said.
The baby Lord toddled closer to the men, looking each of them in the eye, causing their hands to tremble, as if He was looking right into their hearts. The larger man of the three took from his box a crystal bottle, expensive and exquisite. He carefully took the lid from it and motioned for the tiny Boy to come.
“This is frankincense. Can You say frankincense?”
Yeshua only smiled, showing all eight of His perfect little new teeth.
“Smell it! It smells good.” He held the bottle of oil out for the Messiah. Yeshua leaned in and instead of sucking in through His nose, He blew out, like all little ones do when learning to smell.
The room’s silence was broken in laughter and the King looked about and squealed with laughter as well.
“He enjoys being the center of attention. You’ve just made His day.” Mary shook her head and smiled at her Firstborn.
Yeshua turned His attention to the smallest man, the quietest of the three. He toddled over to Him, His balance still unsteady from only learning to walk, and looked into his box again. It shone with brilliance. “Gold, Child. For You.”
He gazed at the gold, touched it, and then looked at the man with earnest eyes. “Pretty,” He said and He touched the man’s hand; it trembled under the small Child’s and a tear rolled down his cheek.
With puckered lips, the Child inched toward the man’s face, as if to kiss his tears away. The wise man flinched when his tiny hand caressed his cheek. Confusion filled the wonder on his face and Mary picked her Son up.
“I’m sorry. He saw you cry and wanted to kiss you. He’s a very tenderhearted Child.” She kissed her Babe’s nose. “Beloved, not everyone wants a kiss.”
The Baby turned his lips down, a few silent tears streamed down His face; as if the rejection broke His little Baby heart.
“Wait, I would love nothing more. It’s just, His touch…I can’t explain it. I felt—something…”
Understanding brimmed her eyes and she beamed. “He has that effect on all of us. Just a touch is all it seems to take.”
She put her Son down and He toddled over to the man, his balance not quite perfected. He placed his palm on the man’s face and kissed his cheek. The wise man tousled His hair and wiped another tear away.
“We appreciate you bringing our Son these gifts. May your travels home be blessed and safe.” Joseph held the door as the men started to file out.
“Wait!” Mary called out after them. She picked up her Son and brought Him to the door. 
“Yeshua, what do you tell the nice men for bringing you presents?”
He clapped His hands and wiggled with joy in her arms. After blinking a few times, he stretched His hands out to His sides, showing them how much He loved them and their gifts—identical to the way He would stretch His hands out to show His love for us, as He hung on the cross—as a Man yet fully God.
“Thank you.”
Mary nodded with approval at her Son for being polite. They waved the men good bye and gave their own thanks to God the Father for supplying them with all their needs, in most unexpected ways.
“For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; And the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6
He’s not a baby anymore, but He still desires to touch you. He still desires to be the center of attention. He still delights in the gifts you bring Him. The greatest gift you can give Him this season is yourself.

 *This is a fictional story based on biblical truth.

Hoping your holidays are Christ-filled!
Tell me, what was your favorite gift you received as a child?

I’m hosting at Living By Grace today! Come by and tell me how you plan to give yourself as a gift to Jesus this upcoming year!

Sweetly…and How to Gain Loyal Readers

Tell me that’s not a fantastic cover! Sweetly is a companion book to Sisters Red, both mainstream Young Adult novels by the sickly talented Jackson Pearce.


My daughter is a hard sale when it comes to books. 

One day at the library, she settled on Sisters Red. A paranormal book about two sisters who hunt Fenris–werewolves. And not the good kind that protect young girls, but lure them with their hot looks and devour them. 

After hours of searching the library, my daughter couldn’t put this one down. Unlike me, who will give an author a chance through about 100 pages, Bailey won’t. You get one shot. One page. Sometimes, literally, one line. Period. I’ve tried to encourage her to keep reading, because it might get better, but that’s not her style. 

She’s now read Sisters Red, 3 times! I haven’t had the chance to, because Bailey is the kind of reader all of us writers want! She told all her friends and they checked the book out. One downloaded it on her kindle. For her birthday, she asked for Sisters Red and the companion, Sweetly. So that was part of her gift. She’s loaned out Sisters Red to her piano teacher!

Word of mouth works best!

Jackson Pearce was a stumbling accident at the library. She’s now a household name around here. And if Bailey has her way, the region will know about Jackson Pearce. There won’t be a book written by her that Bailey won’t jump on the chance to not just read, but to own!

I read Sweetly. I started at 7:00 p.m. and at 11 p.m., I knew if I didn’t put it down I’d be exhausted the next day. But I thought about it while I was working. At noon, I came home, made a sandwich and went straight to my room to finish it.

5 stars.

What does a 5 star rating mean in my reader world?

From page 1 I was sucked in. The very first line! The characters were fun, unique, interesting, hilarious. The dialogue was real, witty, and flavorful. The emotions were deep.  I didn’t not skim pages. I couldn’t or I’d miss something and frankly, I wanted to hang on every word. 

The romance was well written, the theme? While not a Christian book (there are a few curse words, one scene that alludes to sex (not graphic at all), and a sprinkle of taking the Lord’s name in vain, the theme was about making changes, overcoming fear and not staying in the same place forever. A positive theme. This may not be something you want your young teen to read because of those things. I used my parental discretion; some of you may have just thought, “Oh, so she doesn’t have any.” I do. Some… 

The mystery! As a voracious reader, I can pretty much guess what’s going to happen in most books. I could not figure out what was going on to save my life in a good, good way! Is she a witch or not? Is someone I care about going to die? Why are they after XXX? I did figure out 2 small things, but the big twists, I never saw coming, therefore I could. Not. Stop. Reading.

Also the fact that chocolate was involved in the story line added numerous points! 🙂 
And when I put the book aside, I knew I’d become a faithful reader–like my daughter. I thought about the book and marveled over the genius. And when the piano teacher brings back Sisters Red, I’ll suck that one down too.

In a time when fairy tales are popular i.e..Grimm & Once Upon a Time, Sweetly is a timely book. A modern day Hansel & Gretel. 

Here’s a peek!

As a child, Gretchen’s twin sister was taken by a witch in the woods. Ever since, Gretchen and her brother, Ansel, have felt the long branches of the witch’s forest threatening to make them disappear, too.
Years later, when their stepmother casts Gretchen and Ansel out, they find themselves in sleepy Live Oak, South Carolina. They’re invited to stay with Sophia Kelly, a beautiful candy maker who molds sugary magic: coveted treats that create confidence, bravery, and passion.
Life seems idyllic and Gretchen and Ansel gradually forget their haunted past– until Gretchen meets handsome local outcast Samuel. He tells her the witch isn’t gone– it’s lurking in the forest, preying on girls every year after Live Oak’s infamous chocolate festival, and looking to make Gretchen its next victim. Gretchen is determined to stop running and start fighting back. Yet the further she investigates the mystery of what the witch is and how it chooses its victims, the more she wonders who the real monster is.
Gretchen is certain of only one thing: a monster is coming, and it will never go away hungry.
What about you? Do you give an author a chance to woo you, or do you expect to be wooed on page 1? Why or why  not? 


What’s On Your Christmas List?

My husband is the worst person to buy for when it comes to the holiday. Like seriously. The worst. I want to poke his eyes out. And it’s because he never needs anything.

But Christmas isn’t really about what we need is it? It’s about wish lists and wants. Although, we all have the grandma that buys us the plain white Hanes panties and socks, because they’re practical. Why do they do this? 

Why after hounding asking us for a list, do they chunk it, only to buy us plastic tablecloths with florescent yellow flowers on it. Why do they insist on buying us those super thick potholders that feel like astronaut gloves and won’t pick a dern thing up? 

Granny, I love you. But for the love of all that is good and holy, stick to the list! A cranberry candle isn’t hard to find! Really. It isn’t!

I digress.

Okay Christmas is really about Jesus, but I’m talking about presents today. And I want to know:

What do you want for Christmas? No, you don’t need it. No, you may not even get it. But you want it! It’s possible. So dish!

What To Do When Your Calendar Seems Bigger Than God

I look forward to Christmas every year. I love the neighborhood lights, the music playing in the stores and the sweet commercials of little kids leaving cookies out for Santa. Kids in jammies are plain ole’ adorable.

And every year, my calendar seems to get fuller, my days shorter, my to-do lists longer. 

I want to remember “the reason for the season”, put “Christ in Christmas”, have “Ho Ho Hope for the Holidays”. 

But as the days go by, I feel like I’m running out of time. Time to meet my deadlines, fight the crazy crowds to buy a 3 inch barrel iron for my daughter, a Web-blaster for my son, find the perfect gift for my girlfriends, one they won’t re-gift. I’m running out of time to bake my famous Christmas cookies that everyone wants a bag of, get my website text to the designer, get my hair done, get my next manuscript to my agent.

I have Christmas parties to attend, programs to sit through (yes, I’m going to make fun of the children who squeak their clarinets–it’s what I do), and library books that are close to overdue. 

And in all that hysteria and feelings of walls closing in on me, I’m reminded, early in the morning–when I’m barely awake–between yummy dreamland and the first thoughts of sipping coffee that Someone wants to spend time with me, to help me organize my day, to make this season smooth and wonderful, not dreadful and busy.

I’m reminded that if I’ll give up a couple hours of sleep to sip coffee and share the breaking dawn with the Lover of My Soul, the panic will turn to calm, the walls that are closing in–removed– and the joy and peace I crave will be lavished upon my soul.

I’ll remember:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” John 1:1
And I’ll remember the One who took off robes of righteousness, for a robe of tender infant flesh, broke through an ordinary girl’s womb for me. I’ll remember the infant flesh that grew into a Man’s and that it was His joy to allow it to be torn and shredded…for me.
And I’ll remember the gift He gave to me. 
Salvation.  

What do you do to remember what this season is all about? Do you wake and tiptoe  into the living room before the house is up? Do you put your kids to bed and enjoy an hour or so at night? 

Come by Living By Grace, an online devotional community for women. On facebook! We’ll be chatting over there! 

Faith Readers Group Review: A Stranger’s Wish by Gayle Roper

A rain and snowy mix falling steadily, temperatures dropping in the low 30s and wind stinging like a horse’s tail against your face.

That’s the weather these ladies fought to get to book club, but homemade bread pudding, coffee cake and piping hot coffee with hazelnut creamer, good friends, and laughter  made it worth the trek to the Cornerstone cafe to discuss faith and fiction. We missed those who couldn’t come and always make book club night special! 

What’d we read? This month was Amish fiction. Many, including myself, had never read an Amish story. Oh, we’ve bought their bread and cheese and wondered. We may have watched an episode of Law and Order when one got killed on Rumspringa, but never read a story.

 So this was an experience. Especially for many who enjoy a fast-paced thriller with romance that makes us want to fan ourselves but not so edgy we have to take a trip to the altar on Sunday. But seriously, are we responsible for our subconscious dreams? Another blog. Another day.

We chose A Stranger’s Wish. It sounded mysterious. A key given to a Englishwoman. Not from Britain, as I thought at first. But what Amish people call, you know… us.

Here were some of our thoughts:

“I liked how the Amish parents didn’t give up on their son, even when he chose not to become a devout member.”

“I liked the main character’s quirkiness and her creativity.”

“I wanted more meat, but this book was mostly light-hearted and quick.”

“I thought there was going to be a bigger twist, but then it wasn’t and I was disappointed.”

“I couldn’t relate to the characters. Any of them.”

I asked, “Did you discover anything interesting about the Amish?”

“I didn’t realize the Amish were so works-based and not faith-based.”

“I think they should live by faith and drive a car. Seems easier.” 

I admit, we giggled at that. 

Overall, I have to say, this wasn’t the groups’ favorite read, but we didn’t hate it. And we all said we’d read more Amish fiction! After taking a poll, the rating for this book came in at 2 stars out of 5. 

We chose (out of 14 Christmas novel choices) to read A Christmas Note by Donna VanLiere for December, who we have never heard of. Have you? 

Do you read Amish fiction? Or write it? What fascinates you about these books or doesn’t? Here’s a peek at A Stranger’s Wish:

Englischer Kristie Matthews’ move to an Amish family farm in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, starts on a bad note as the young schoolteacher is bitten by a dog. A trip to the local ER leads to an encounter with an old man who hands her a key and swears her to silence.
But when Kristie’s life is endangered, she suspects there’s a connection to the mysterious key. While solving the mystery (and staying alive), Kristie must decide whether her lawyer boyfriend, Todd Reasoner, is really right for her….or if Jon Clarke Griffin, the new local man she’s met, is all he seems to be.