Category Archives: Mystery and Suspense Titles

True Light By Terri Blackstock


True Light by Terri Blackstock
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (July 1, 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310257697
ISBN-13: 978-0310257691

As Oak Hollow grapples with a global power blackout, a teenager is shot in a food robbery. Jailed as the suspect, young Mark Green must prove his innocence to a community that has already judged him in its heart. But the Branning family stands with him as he fights to survive—and forgive. Book three in Terri Blackstock’s Restoration series.

I reviewed books one and two in this series here and here.

This is the third book in the Restoration Series, and, although I enjoyed it, I didn’t like it as much as the first and second books. Why? It might be because I don’t want to see the people suffering anymore because of the lack of food and shelter? I just want the lights to come back on so that everybody can get back to the way their lives used to be! I do think this is a gripping series, and the characters have taken a hold of my mind and I just want to see everything end happily and for people to be okay.

When Zach, a young man, is shot over a deer, panic rises in the town of Oak Hollow. Mark, an Oak Hollow resident, is mistakenly blamed for the shooting, and until Zach recuperates and is no longer unconscious, there seems to be nobody who can clear Mark’s of the crime. Mark’s reputation is tainted because of his father’s background (his father was a murderer as well as a pornographer), and as a Christian, Mark wonders why he’s being forced to suffer from his father’s shady past.

Deni is saddened that Mark, her love interest, has to suffer for a crime he did not commit. The blackout is really affecting the town and this novel spends a great deal of time in the county jail where the skeletal-crew police force is trying to keep the prisoners behind bars.

I enjoyed this intriguing and suspenseful book and look forward to reading the last novel in the series.

~Cecelia Dowdy~

Night Light By Terri Blackstock


Night Light by Terri BlackstockPaperback: 368 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (July 1, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310257689
ISBN-13: 978-0310257684
From the Back Cover
In the face of a crisis that sweeps an entire high-tech planet back to the age before electricity, the Brannings face a choice. Will they hoard their possessions to survive or trust God to provide as they offer their resources to others? #1 bestselling suspense author Terri Blackstock weaves a masterful what-if series in which global catastrophe reveals the darkness in human hearts and lights the way to restoration for a self-centered world. An era unlike any in modern civilization is descending, one without lights, electronics, running water, or automobiles. As a global blackout lengthens into months, the neighbors of Oak Hollow grapple with a chilling realization: the power may never return. Survival has become a lifestyle. When two young thieves break into the Brannings home and clean out the food in their pantry, Jeff Branning tracks them to a filthy apartment and discovers a family of children living alone, stealing to stay alive. Where is their mother? The search for answers uncovers a trail of desperation and murder . . . and for the Brannings, a powerful new purpose that can transform their entire community and above all, themselves.

I reviewed the first book in this series here. I can see why this author is a #1 best-selling writer! I was so impressed by the first book that I ordered the rest of this series from Amazon! I kept thinking about the characters and the fact that the lights, electricity and electronics had not been restored by the end of the first book. The characters never left my mind so I eagerly started the second book in the series months later. This book won’t disappoint you! The world is still without power and mankind is still scavenging for food and clean water. Most of the residents of Oak Hollow have banded together to stay alive. They’ve combined their manpower to build a well, so that they can have clean water to drink. Food is still scarce and when the Brannings find children stealing their food, they discover that the youngsters are living in a dirty apartment building, alone.

The children come to live with the Brannings and the family wonders if they’ll have enough food to feed the extra youngsters. Meanwhile, technology in the world does get a slight boost when it’s discovered that old automobiles, build in the seventies and before that, will work because they don’t use a microchip.

Meanwhile, Deni Branning wonders about her fiance. He doesn’t seem to care that’s she’s almost gotten killed during the blackout. Should she breakup with him?

I highly recommend this novel. The story will keep you entertained for hours. Blackstock is one of my favorite authors. Her suspense is extremely intriquing.

~Cecelia Dowdy~

Skin By Ted Dekker

SKIN BY TED DEKKER PODCAST

This blog post is sponsored by Divine Desserts Publishing LLC. If you like suspenseful Christian fiction then you must read Shades of Chocolate. Shades of Chocolate is about Toni, an unsaved woman who runs a chocolate-themed bakery. Her life is in danger and as she struggles with religion and faith issues, she works with Jason. Toni has hired Jason to work in her bakery. Jason is wealthy, and while he’s on hiatus from his family’s business, he grows closer to Toni. He’s worried about her – can he protect her? He wants her to share his faith – but that would take a miracle. Come and read this faith-filled wonderful Amazon bestselling novel today! Tell your friends and church buddies by sharing the link at the end of this blog post. You may also go to https://ceceliadowdy.com/shades-of-chocolate/
Skin by Ted Dekker

Hardcover: 400 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson (April 3, 2007)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1595542779

From the back cover:
A freak storm has spawned three tornadoes that are bearing down on the town of Summerville. Yet under the cover of the storm looms a much more ominous threat: A vindictive killer known as Red who’s left a string of victims in his wake and is now bent on exacting his final revenge on the unsuspecting town. But there is an enigma surrounding Red that the FBI is unwilling to admit-closely guarded secrets of something gone terribly wrong beneath the skin of Summerville. Secrets that will destroy far more than one small town. Wendy Davidson is caught in the middle. She’s a recovering cult survivor who takes refuge in Summerville on her way to visit her estranged mother. And with her, four strangers, any of whom could be the next victim . . . or the killer.

==
This book gave me nightmares. No, I’m not kidding. It was chilling, gruesome and bloody.

HOWEVER, I wanted to keep reading the story. I wanted to see what happened to Wendy, Colt, Pinkus, Nicole, and Carey. I also wanted to find out the identity of the killer named Red.

Five people are drawn together, being influenced by an evil killer named Red. Red is obsessed with ugliness…The five people are forced to decide which one of them is the ugliest…therefore deciding which one of them will die next. Red gives the five ultimatums throughout the book.

This isn’t the usual genre that I read, and in order for me to tell you my full thoughts about the story, I’ll have to give spoilers. If you want a chilling story that’ll keep you reading, this book is for you. But, if you’re somewhat squeamish, I wouldn’t recommend this novel. See below for my further thoughts….

SPOILER BELOW

I read this novel very quickly. I’ve been reading it the last few nights before going to bed. The book somehow crept into my mind and stayed there…I had bad dreams for two nights. My husband told me to stop reading the book, but I told him that the book was written in a way that made me want to finish.

Wait a second…

If you like religious, wholesome fiction, then read my novel Shades of Chocolate! Over 150 Amazon 5-star reviews! Join my email list and receive fantastic updates about new releases! Now, back to Skin…

This book was filled with so much darkness, sadness and evil…I felt that Dekker could have placed more light into the story…more goodness. It may have been in the story…hidden…and I just didn’t “see” it. I caught a glimpse of truth and goodness at the end, but that’s about it.

I wanted to rewrite the novel and take out some of the blood and gore! Chopped-off fingers, chopped-off hand, hanging deaths, shooting deaths, beautiful face disfigured with a knife, beautiful face disfigured with a blow torch…death, death, death….It was like the streets were swimming with blood…and I just wanted to say, “Stop, enough already!”

It was a bit of a relief to find out that the town was not real and the whole thing was a game. I’m not the most scientifically-minded person, but I found the ending a little bit confusing. Even though it was a game, the events physically affected the players…sometimes. For example, Pinkus’s fingers were severed during the game, but, when they came out of the game, his fingers were intact. Yet, brother and sister Nicole and Carey both died during the game and they were really dead when the game was over. [SEE MY ADDITIONAL INSIGHT BELOW. I THOUGHT OF SOMETHING ELSE ON 11/23/09.]

When the killer is revealed, it’s definitely a shock.

I won’t rant that I didn’t see much of an inspirational message since I’ve heard that this was marketed as a secular book. If I could rewrite this story, I’d place some light into it. [SEE MY ADDITIONAL INSIGHT BELOW. I THOUGHT OF SOMETHING ELSE ON 11/23/09.] Show them praying, calling out to Jesus. It didn’t appear that any of the characters were Christians. I know Carey dealt with the occult, using his pentagram and candles and stuff.

I think this book will stay in my mind for a long time. I didn’t purchase this title. After I read Three and Black, my sister heard me raving about how much I enjoyed Dekker’s work. She found this book in the discount bin at Barnes and Noble and called me, wanting to know if I wanted it. I told her to purchase it for me and she did. I haven’t read all of his books because his genre is not my usual preference, but, his genre (at least the older books) are something I can read and enjoy occasionally.

Parts of this novel reminded me of the following three movies:

It (Stephen King wrote the book. I can’t read King, either. I tried to read a King novel when I was in my early twenties and I didn’t make it past chapter one. The novel was well-written, but, he gave me nightmares, so I stopped reading and never tried again.)
Jumangi – Just Google it to find out what this movie’s about. Not sure if I spelled it right. Robin Williams starred in it and he was swept into a board game as a child, but returns from the game once he’s an adult.
The Matrix

As time goes by, and if the mood permits, I’ll probably read some more of Dekker’s older stuff within the next year or so, like the rest of the Circle series. If he has other titles as gruesome as this one, I don’t think I’ll read them.

***Additional thoughts…this book is still heavy on my mind and I just wish it would go away! I did come up with a thought on the inspirational aspect of this story this evening (11/23/09). Carey was involved with the occult and I’m assuming his sister Nicole was, too, therefore making them evil/bad as far as God is concerned. The killer, Red, is also evil, for obvious reasons. All three of these people end up dead while the good people, Wendy, Colt, and Pinkus, manage to live throughout the game. The “goodness” of Wendy, Cold, and Pinkus is portrayed by the fact that they are now alive and there was no physical damage – that’s why Pinkus still has his fingers. It’s the goodness protecting him and this protection obviously didn’t cover Nicole, Carey, or the killer? I’m rambling now, not sure if I’m on the right track…but that’s all I have to say about this novel. Now, hopefully it’ll leave my mind, allowing me to focus on something more positive and uplifting!

If you like religious, wholesome fiction, then read my novel Shades of Chocolate! Over 150 Amazon 5-star reviews! Join my email list and receive fantastic updates about new releases!

This blog post is sponsored by Divine Desserts Publishing LLC. If you like suspenseful Christian fiction then you must read Shades of Chocolate. Shades of Chocolate is about Toni, an unsaved woman who runs a chocolate-themed bakery. Her life is in danger and as she struggles with religion and faith issues, she works with Jason. Toni has hired Jason to work in her bakery. Jason is wealthy, and while he’s on hiatus from his family’s business, he grows closer to Toni. He’s worried about her – can he protect her? He wants her to share his faith – but that would take a miracle. Come and read this faith-filled wonderful Amazon bestselling novel today! Tell your friends and church buddies by sharing the link at the end of this blog post. You may also go to https://ceceliadowdy.com/shades-of-chocolate/

 

SHADES OF CHOCOLATE BOOK LINK

~Cecelia Dowdy~

Last Breath By Brandilyn And Amberly Collins

I finished this novel last night and it was an entertaining read. I didn’t think it was as scary as the prequel since there was no dead body in the beginning. But, there were unique aspects of the story that’ll make you keep turning the pages.
1. There’s a sweet love story that takes place in the nineties with Rayne and her boyfriend (Shaley’s dad)
2. Gang warfare is an unusual element that gives this story a suspenseful edge.

When Shaley’s mom is injured, Shaley is beside herself with worry. The paparazzi continue to hound the star and her daughter, and Shaley feels like her life is spinning out of control. All she wants to do is go home and relax, try and return to a life of semi-normalcy. However, she’s in the hospital with her injured superstar-singer mother, Rayne. After an eager photographer causes Rayne’s accident, she’s stunned because she can’t finish her tour and is forced to recuperate in the hospital.

Shaley still wonders about the message whispered in her ear right before the killer in the first book dies…Did her father really send a killer on the Rayne tour? Will her mother now give her details about the father Shaley’s never known?

This book shows that sometimes turmoil happens in our lives, forcing us to think about God and to turn to Him during those difficult moments.

~Cecelia Dowdy~

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

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

Today’s Wild Card author is:

and the book:

Last Breath (Rayne Series #2)

Zondervan; 1 edition (October 1, 2009)

***Special thanks to Lindsey Rodarmer of ZONDERKIDZ for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Brandilyn and Amberly Collins are a mother/daughter team from northern California. Brandilyn is a bestselling novelist, known for her trademarked “Seatbelt Suspense”. Amberly is a college student in southern California. She and her mom love attending concerts together.

Visit the author’s website.

Here’s a video about the first book in the Rayne Series:

Product Details:

List Price: $9.99
Reading level: Young Adult
Paperback: 240 pages
Publisher: Zondervan; 1 edition (October 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310715407
ISBN-13: 978-0310715405

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Your father sent me.

The last words of a dying man, whispered in my ear.

Were they true? What did they mean?

Your father sent me. The stunning claim drilled through my head, louder than the crowd’s screams.

Guitars blasted the last chord of Rayne’s hit song, Ever Alone, as Mom’s voice echoed through the Pepsi Center in Denver. The heavy drum beat thumped in my chest. With a final smash of cymbals the rock song ended. Multicolored laser lights swept the stadium, signaling the thirty-minute intermission.

Wild shrieks from thousands of fans rang in my ears.

I rose from my chair backstage. Tiredly, I smiled at the famous Rayne O’Connor as she strode toward me on high red heels. In the lights her sequined top shimmered and her blonde hair shone. She walked with confidence and grace, the picture of a rock star—until she stepped from her fans’ sight. Then her posture slumped, weariness creasing her beautiful face. Mom’s intense blue eyes usually glimmered with the excitement of performing, but now I saw only the wash of grief and exhaustion. How she’d managed to perform tonight, I’d never know. Except that she’s strong. A real fighter.

Me? I had to keep fighting too, even if my legs still trembled and I’d probably have nightmares for weeks.

Your father sent me.

I had to find out what those words meant.

“You’re a very brave young lady,” a Denver detective had told me just a few hours ago. I didn’t feel brave then or now.

“You okay, Shaley?” Mom had to shout over the screams as she hugged me.

I nodded against her shoulder, hanging on tightly until she pulled back.

The crowd’s applause died down. A heavy hum of voices and footsteps filtered from the stadium as thousands of people headed for concessions and bathrooms during the break.

Kim, the band’s keyboard player and alto to my mom’s lead vocals, stopped to lay a darkly tanned hand on my head. A strand of her bleached white-blonde hair was stuck to the gloss on her pink lips. She brushed it away. “You’re an amazing sixteen-year-old.”

I shrugged, embarrassed. “Thanks.”

Mick and Wendell, Mom’s two remaining bodyguards, approached without a word. I gave a self-conscious smile to Wendell, and he nodded back, sadness flicking across his face. His deep-set eyes were clouded, and the long scar across his chin seemed harder, more shiny. At five-eleven, Wendell is short for a bodyguard but every bit as muscled. Tonight his two-inch black hair, usually gelled straight up, stuck out in various directions. He hadn’t bothered to fix it since the life and death chase he was involved in just a few hours ago. Seeing that messed-up hair sent a stab through me. Wendell was usually so finicky about it.

Mick, Mom’s main personal bodyguard, folded his huge arms and stood back, waiting. Mick is in his forties, ex-military and tall, with a thick neck and block-shaped head. I’ve rarely seen emotion on his face, but I saw glimpses of it now. He and Wendell had been good friends with Bruce, Mom’s third bodyguard.

Bruce had been killed hours ago. Shot.

And he’d been trying to guard me.

My vision blurred. I blinked hard and looked at the floor.

“Come on.” Mom nudged my arm. “We’re all meeting in my dressing room.”

Mick and Bruce flanked her as she walked away.

Usually we don’t have to be so careful backstage. It’s a heavily guarded area anyway. But tonight nothing was the same.

Kim and I followed Mom down a long hall to her dressing room. Morrey, Kim’s boyfriend and Rayne’s drummer, caught up with us. He put a tattoo-covered arm around Kim, her head only reaching his shoulders. Morrey looked at me and winked, but I saw no happiness in it.

Ross Blanke, the band’s tour production manager, hustled up alongside us, trailed by Stan, lead guitarist, and Rich, Rayne’s bass player. “Hey.” Ross put a pudgy hand on Mom’s shoulder. “You’re doing great.” He waved an arm, indicating everyone. “All of you, you’re just doing great.”

“You do what you have to,” Stan said grimly. His black face shone with sweat.

Narrowing single file, we trudged into the dressing room. Mick and Wendell took up places on each side of the door.

Marshall, the makeup and hair stylist, started handing out water bottles. In his thirties, Marshall has buggy eyes and curly dark hair. His fingers are long and narrow, deft with his makeup tools. But until two days ago, he’d been second to Mom’s main stylist, Tom.

“Thanks.” I took a bottle from Marshall and tried to smile. Didn’t work. Just looking at him sent pangs of grief through me, because his presence reminded me of Tom’s absence.

Tom, my closest friend on tour, had been murdered two days ago.

Mom, Ross, Rich and I sank down on the blue couch—one of the furniture pieces Mom requested in every dressing room. Denver’s version was extra large, with a high back and overstuffed arms. To our left stood a table with plenty of catered food, but no one was hungry. I’d hardly eaten in the last day and a half and knew I should have something. But no way, not now.

Maybe after the concert.

Stan, Morrey and Kim drew up chairs to form a haphazard circle.

“All right.” Ross sat with his short, fat legs apart, hands on his jeaned thighs. The huge diamond ring on his right hand was skewed to one side. He straightened it with his pinky finger. “I’ve checked outside past the guarded area. The zoo’s double what it usually is. The news has already hit and every reporter and his brother are waiting for us. Some paparazzi are already there, and others have probably hopped planes and will show up by the time we leave.”

Is Cat here? I shuddered at the thought of the slinky, effeminate photographer who’d bothered us so much in the last two days. He’d even pulled a fire alarm in our San Jose hotel the night before just to force us out of our rooms. Now by police order he wasn’t supposed to get within five hundred feet of us. I doubted he’d care.

My eyes burned, and my muscles felt like water. Little food, no sleep, and plenty of shock. Bad combination. I slumped down in the couch and laid my head back.

Ross ran a hand through his scraggly brown hair. “Now at intermission folks out there”—he jabbed a thumb toward the arena—“are gonna start hearing things. Rayne, you might want to say a little something when you get back on stage.”

Mom sighed, as if wondering where she’d find the energy to do the second half of the concert. “Yeah.”

I squeezed her knee. If only the two of us could hide from the world for a week or two.

Make that a whole year.

Rich frowned as he moved his shaved head from one side to the other, stretching his neck muscles. His piercing gray eyes landed on me, and his face softened. I looked away.

Everyone was so caring and concerned about me. I was grateful for that. Really, I was. But it’s a little hard to know you’ve been the cause of three deaths. Under all their smiles, did the band members blame me?

Ross scratched his hanging jowl. “We got extra coverage from Denver police at the hotel tonight. Tomorrow we’re supposed to head out for Albuquerque. It’s close enough for Vance to drive the main bus without a switch-off driver, and the next two venues are close enough as well. But that’s just logistics. We’ve all been through a lot. Question is—can you all keep performing?” He looked around, eyebrows raised.

“Man.” Morrey shook back his shoulder-length black hair. “If three deaths in two days isn’t enough to make us quit …” His full lips pressed.

I glanced hopefully at Mom. Yeah, let’s go home! I could sleep in my own bed, hide from the paparazzi and reporters, hang out with Brittany, my best friend—who was supposed to be here with me right now.

But canceling concerts would mean losing a lot of money. The Rayne tour was supposed to continue another four weeks.

Mom hunched forward, elbows on her knees and one hand to her cheek. Her long red fingernails matched the color of her lips. “I almost lost my daughter tonight.” Her voice was tight. “I don’t care if I never tour again—Shaley’s got to be protected, that’s the number one thing.”

I want you protected too, Mom.

“I agree with that a hundred percent,” Morrey said, “but at least the threat to Shaley is gone now that Jerry’s dead.

Jerry, one of our bus drivers—and a man I’d thought was my friend—killed Tom and Bruce, and then came after me earlier that night. A cop ended up shooting him.

Kim spread her hands. “I don’t know what to say. I’m still reeling. We’ve barely had time to talk about any of this tonight before getting on stage. I feel like my mind’s gonna explode. And Tom …”

She teared up, and that made me cry. Kim had been like a mother to Tom. Crazy, funny Tom. It was just so hard to believe he was gone.

I wiped my eyes and looked at my lap.

“Anyway.” Kim steadied her voice. “It’s so much to deal with. I don’t know how we’re going to keep up this pace for another month.”

Mom looked at Ross. “We can’t keep going very long with only Vance to drive the main bus.”

Ross nodded. “Until Thursday. I’d have to replace him by then.”

“With who?” Mom’s voice edged.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to jump on it.”

“You can’t just ‘jump on it.’ We need time to thoroughly check the new driver out.”

“Rayne.” Ross threw her a look. “I did check Jerry out. Completely. He had a false ID, remember? That’s what the police said. I couldn’t have known that.”

“You might have known if you’d checked harder.”

Ross’s face flushed. “I did—”

“No you didn’t! Or if you did it wasn’t good enough!” Mom pushed to her feet and paced a few steps. “Something’s mighty wrong if we can’t even find out a guy’s a convicted felon!”

What? I stiffened. “How do you know that?”

Mom waved a hand in the air. “The police told me just before we left the hotel.”

We’d huddled in the manager’s office after the policeman killed Jerry.

I stared at Mom. “When was he in jail?”

Mom threw a hard look at Ross. “He’d barely gotten out when we hired him.”

Heat flushed through my veins. I snapped my gaze toward the floor, Jerry’s last words ringing in my head.

Your father sent me.

How could my father have sent Jerry if he was in jail?

“Rayne,” Ross snapped, “I’ve told you I’m sorry a dozen times—”

“Sorry isn’t enough!” Mom whirled on him. “My daughter was taken hostage. She could have been killed!”

Rich jumped up and put his arms around her. “Come on, Rayne, it’s okay now.”

She leaned against him, eyes closed. The anger on her face melted into exhaustion. “It’s not okay.” Mom shook her head. “Tom’s dead, Bruce is dead. And Shaley—”

Her words broke off. Mom pulled away from Rich and hurried back to the couch. She sank down next to me, a hand on my knee. “Shaley, you’re the one who’s been through the most. What do you want to do?”

My throat nearly swelled shut. Go home! I wanted to yell. But I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair. This wasn’t my tour. I didn’t have to pay the bills.

I glanced around at all the band members. Morrey was holding Kim’s hand. Stan and Rich watched me, waiting. A canceled tour wouldn’t just affect them. Rayne had three back-up singers, one of them Carly, who’d been such a help to me. Plus all the techs and roadies. They’d all lose money.

Wait—maybe Mom would let me go home and stay with Brittany. Now that Tom’s and Bruce’s killer was dead …

“Shaley?” Mom tapped my leg.

“I don’t … I can’t stop the tour.”

Ross exhaled. “Rayne?”

Mom looked at the wall clock and pushed to her feet. “We can’t decide this now. It’s only fifteen minutes before we have to be back on stage. I still need to change.”

Stan stood. “I say we figure on doing Albuquerque, and then we can decide about the rest.”

“Yeah, me too.” Rich got up, along with everyone else. I could see the business-like attitude settle on all their faces, including Mom’s. Soon they had to perform again. Every other concern must be pushed aside. In the entertainment world the saying was true: the show must go on.

Within a minute everyone had left except Mom, Marshall and me. Mom threw herself into a chair by the bright mirrors so Marshall could adjust her makeup. When he left she changed into a steel blue top and skinny-legged black pants.

I sat numbly on the couch, four words running through my mind. Words, I sensed, that would change my life.

Your father sent me.

Mom didn’t know what Jerry had whispered to me as he died. I needed to tell her.

But how? Like me, she was running on empty. It would be one more shock, another scare. I wasn’t sure she could take anymore and still perform.

Had Jerry told me the truth? Had the father I’d never known—the man my mother refused to talk about—purposely sent a killer to join our tour?

I needed to know. I needed to find out. Because if it was true—the danger was far from over.

In Search Of A Hero By Cheryl Wolverton


In Search Of A Hero by Cheryl Wolverton
Pub. Date: March 2002
Publisher: Harlequin
Format: Mass Market Paperback, 252pp
Series: Steeple Hill Love Inspired Series
ISBN-13: 9780373871735
ISBN: 0373871732

From the back cover:

TO ERR IS HUMAN…

But attorney Rebekkah Hawkley figured it would take nothing short of divine intervention for Andre Watson to learn forgiveness. The stubborn Texan might have come home to save his father’s law firm from a shadowy threat, but he refused to forget an age-old family feud. If only Rebekkah could convince Andre that his dad needed his love — and that she didn’t….

As Andre saw it, unyielding Rebekkah ought to practice what she preached. But her troubled past didn’t concern him nearly as much as her future. He had every intention of showing her that a woman needed more in her life than church and a career. Namely: love, marriage — and him!

I bought this book used a few months ago. I was talking to the author on a writers’ loop and she told me she’d written a Love Inspired with an interracial couple – a black heroine and a white hero. I knew she had to be kidding because I would’ve remembered seeing a Love Inspired with a white hero and black heroine. Cheryl told me the title of the book and I placed my order. Since it’s so old, I could only purchase it used.

One reason I probably didn’t realize the heroine was African American when the book was released is because the only person on the cover is the hero! I wish they’d placed the heroine on the cover too!

It’s a romantic suspense. It appears this book was published before Love Inspired started their romantic suspense line. Andre Watson has returned to his father’s law firm to help them investigate an old case they’ve won. Wondering if the evidence has been tampered, both Andre and Rebekkah, a current lawyer in his father’s practice, work on this case together.

Amidst candlelit dinners and dangerous events the two struggle to come to terms with their deep feelings for each other. Both also try to learn forgiveness and try to make amends with estranged family members.

It was a quick, enjoyable read, so if you can find it used, you should read it.

Anybody know of any other Love Inspireds with minority characters? The only ones that I know of are the book mentioned in this blog post, my own novel, First Mates, Felicia Mason’s Love Inspired novels, and Camy Tang’s Love Inspired suspense.

~Cecelia Dowdy~

Deadly Intent by Camy Tang

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

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

Today’s Wild Card author is:

and the book:

Deadly Intent

Steeple Hill (July 14, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Camy Tang writes romance with a kick of wasabi. Originally from
Hawaii, she worked as a biologist for 9 years, but now she writes full time. She is a staff worker for her San Jose church youth group and leads a worship team for Sunday service. She also runs the Story Sensei fiction critique service, which specializes in book doctoring.

On her blog, she gives away Christian novels, and she ponders
frivolous things like dumb dogs (namely, hers), coffee-geek husbands (no resemblance to her own…), the writing journey, Asiana, and anything else that comes to mind.

Visit the author’s website.

Product Details:

List Price: $5.50
Mass Market Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: Steeple Hill (July 14, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0373443471
ISBN-13: 978-0373443475

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Chapter One

The man who walked into Naomi’s father’s day spa was striking enough to start a female riot.

Dark eyes swept the room, which happened to be filled with the Sonoma spa’s staff at that moment. She felt his gaze glance over her like a tingling breeze. Naomi recognized him instantly. Dr. Devon Knightley.

For a wild moment, she thought, He’s come to see me. And her heart twirled in a riotous dance.

But only for a moment. Sure, they’d talked amiably— actually, more than amiably—at the last Zoe International fund-raising dinner, but after an entire evening sitting next to her, he hadn’t asked for her phone number, hadn’t asked for any contact information at all. Wasn’t that a clear sign he wasn’t interested?

She quashed the memory and stepped forward in her official capacity as the spa owner’s daughter and acting manager. “Dr. Knightley. Welcome.”

He clasped her hand with one tanned so brown that it seemed to bring the heat of the July sun into the airy, air-conditioned entranceway. “Miss Naomi Grant.” His voice had more than a shot of surprise, as did his looks as he took in her pale blue linen top and capris, the same uniform as the gaggle of spa staff members gathered behind her. “It’s been a few months since I’ve seen you.”

He still held her hand. She loved the feel of his palm— cool and warm at the same time, strong the way a surgeon’s should be.

No, she had to stop this. Devon and his family were hard-core atheists, and nothing good would come out of giving in to her attraction. “What brings you here?”

“I need to speak to Jessica Ortiz.”

An involuntary spasm seized her throat. Of course. Glamorous client Jessica Ortiz or plain massage therapist Naomi Grant—no comparison, really.

But something in his tone didn’t quite have the velvety sheen of a lover. He sounded almost… dangerous. And danger didn’t belong in the spa. Their first priority was to protect the privacy of the guests.

“Er… Ms. Ortiz?” Naomi glanced at Sarah, one of the receptionists, whose brow wrinkled as she studied her computer monitor behind the receptionists’ desk. Naomi knew she was stalling—she didn’t need to look because she’d checked Ms. Ortiz into the elite Tamarind Lounge almost two hours before.

Naomi’s aunt Becca also stood at the receptionists’ desk, stepping aside from her spa hostess duties to allow Naomi to handle Dr. Knightley, but Aunt Becca’s eyes had a sharp look that conveyed her message clearly to Naomi: the clients’ privacy and wishes come first.

Naomi cleared her throat. “Are you her physician?”

Dr. Knightley frowned down at her, but she kept her air of calm friendliness. He grimaced and looked away. “Er… no.”

Naomi blinked. He could have lied, but he hadn’t. “If you’ll wait here, I can see if Ms. Ortiz is available to come out here to see you.” If Jessica declined to come out, Naomi didn’t want to think what Devon’s reaction would be.

His eyes grew stormier. “Couldn’t you just let me walk in back to see her?”

“I’m sorry, but we can’t allow nonfamily members into the back rooms. And men are not allowed in the women’s lounges.” Especially the secluded Tamarind Lounge, reserved only for Tamarind members who paid the exorbitant membership fee.

“Naomi, surely you can make an exception for me?” He suddenly flashed a smile more blinding than her receptionist’s new engagement ring.

His switching tactics—from threatening to charming— annoyed her more than his argumentative attitude. She crossed her arms. “I’m afraid not.” She had to glance away to harden herself against the power of that smile.

“You don’t understand. It’s important that I see her, and it won’t take long.” He leaned closer, using his height to intimidate.

He had picked the wrong woman to irritate. Maybe her frustrated attraction made her exceptionally determined to thwart him. Her jaw clenched and she couldn’t help narrowing her eyes. “Joy Luck Life Spa has many high-profile clients. If we let anyone into our elite lounges, we’d lose our sterling reputation for privacy and discretion.”

“You don’t understand how important this is—”

“Dr. Knightley, so nice to see you again.” Aunt Becca stepped forward and inserted herself between the good doctor and Naomi’s line of vision. She held out a thin hand, which Devon automatically took. “Why don’t I set you up in the Chervil Lounge while Naomi looks for Ms. Ortiz?”

Aunt Becca whirled around faster than a tornado. Her eyes promised trouble if Naomi didn’t comply. “Naomi.”

Aunt Becca’s taking charge of the conversation seemed to drive home the point that although Dad had left Naomi in charge of the spa while he recovered from his stroke, she still had a long way to go toward learning good customer relations. Part of her wanted to be belligerent toward Devon just to prove she was in the right, but the other part of her wilted at her failure as a good manager.

She walked into the back rooms and paused outside the door to the Tamarind Lounge, consciously relaxing her face. Deep breath in. Gently open the door.

Softly pitched conversation drifted into silence. Two pairs of eyes flickered over her from the crimson silk chaise lounges in the far corner of the luxuriant room, but neither of them belonged to Jessica Ortiz. Vanilla spice wafted around her as she headed toward the two women, trying to glide calmly, as the daughter of the spa owner should.

“Good morning, ladies. I apologize for the intrusion.”

“Is it already time for my facial?” The elderly woman gathered her Egyptian cotton robe around her and prepared to stand.

“No, not yet, Ms. Cormorand. I’ve come to ask if either of you have seen Ms. Ortiz.”

An inscrutable look passed between them. What had Jessica done to offend these clients in only the couple of hours she’d been at the spa? Jessica seemed to be causing the spa more and more trouble recently.

The other woman finally answered, “No, she left about a half hour ago for her massage. I thought she was with you.”

Naomi cleared her throat to hide her start. Jessica’s appointment was at eleven, in fifteen minutes, not now.

“Yes, doesn’t she always ask for you when she comes?” Ms. Cormorand blinked faded blue eyes at her.

Naomi shoved aside a brief frisson of unease. Jessica should be easy to find. “Which massage therapist called for her?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Ms. Cormorand waved a pudgy hand beringed with rubies and diamonds. “Someone in a blue uniform.”

Only one of almost a hundred staff workers at the spa.

“Thank you, ladies. Ms. Cormorand, Haley will call you for your facial in fifteen minutes.” Naomi inclined her head and left the room, trying to let the sounds of running water from the fountain in the corner calm her growing sense of unease.

Where could Jessica have gone? And an even juicier question: Why did Devon Knightley need to speak to her?

She peeked into the larger Rosemary lounge, which was for the use of spa clients who were not Tamarind members. Several women chatted in small groups, but no Jessica Ortiz. Naomi hadn’t really expected Jessica to forgo the more comfortable elite lounge, but the only other option was checking each of the treatment rooms individually.

She headed into the back area where the therapy rooms were located, navigating the hallway scattered with teak and bamboo furniture, each sporting East Asian cushions and throws, artfully arranged by Aunt Becca. Had Jessica switched to a different massage therapist? And had someone forgotten to tell Naomi in the excitement of Sarah’s new engagement?

As she moved down the hallway, she started noticing a strange, harsh scent suffusing the mingled smells of san-dalwood and vanilla. Not quite as harsh as chemicals, but not a familiar aromatherapy fragrance, a slightly discordant counterpoint to the spa’s relaxing perfume.

She knew that smell, but couldn’t place it. And it didn’t conjure up pleasant associations. She started to hurry.

She first looked into the women’s restroom, her steps echoing against the Italian tile. No sound of running water, but she peeked into the shower area. A few women were in the rooms with the claw-foot bathtubs, and a couple more in the whirlpool room, but no Jessica. No one using the toilets.

The mirrored makeup area had a handful of women, but again no Jessica. Naomi smiled at the clients to hide her disappointment and growing anxiety as she entered. She noticed some towels on the floor, a vase of orchids a little askew, and some lotions out of place on the marble counter running the length of the room, so she tidied up as if she had intended to do so, although the staff assigned to restroom duty typically kept things spic and span.

She peeked into the sauna. A rather loud ring of laughing women, but no Jessica.

Back out in the central fountain area, the harsh smell seemed stronger, but she couldn’t pinpoint where it came from. Had a sewage pipe burst? No, it wasn’t that sort of smell. It didn’t smell rotten, just… had an edge to it.

She entered the locker area, although the Joy Luck Life Spa “lockers” were all carved teakwood cabinets, individually locked with keys. The smell jumped tenfold. Naomi scoured the room. Maybe it came from a client’s locker? No. Maybe the dirty laundry hamper?

Bingo.

She flipped open the basketweave lid.

And screamed.

***

Chapter Two

The scream pierced Devon’s eardrums. Beside him, Becca Itoh started. The heavy wooden double doors she’d just opened, leading to the men’s lounge, clunked closed again as she turned and headed back down the corridor they’d walked.

“Where—?” He kept up with her, but not easily—for a woman in her fifties, she could book it.

“The women’s lounge area.” She pointed ahead as she hustled closer. “Those mahogany double doors at the end.”

Devon sprinted ahead and yanked open the doors. “Stay behind me.”

Becca ignored him, thrusting ahead and shouting, “Naomi!” as they entered a large circular entry area with more corridors leading from it. “Naomi!”

A door to their right burst open and Naomi Grant spilled into the entry room. “Aunt Becca!” Her face was the same shade as the cream-colored walls. “There’s blood in the women’s locker room.”

“Blood?” Becca reached for her as Devon pushed past her into the room she’d just exited.

Despite the urgency, he couldn’t help but be awed by the fountain in the center of a vast chamber with a veined-tile floor. Scrollwork signs on the walls pointed to “sauna” and “whirlpool” and “locker room.” Luckily, no women appeared. He veered right.

He almost wasn’t sure he’d actually arrived in the right place, but the carpeted room lined with teakwood locking cabinets was in line with the luxurious entry hall of what he realized was the women’s bathroom.

The metallic smell of blood reached him. He followed his nose to the basket hamper in the corner, filled with bloody towels. It reminded him of the discarded gauzes from his orthopedic surgeries, bright red and a lot more than the average person saw.

This was not good.

He returned to the two women. Naomi’s hands were visibly shaking, although her voice remained low and calm. “And I couldn’t find Ms. Ortiz.”

Jessica’s name still caused the reflexive crunching of his jaw. But he’d never wanted any harm to come to her—she wasn’t a bad person, they had just clashed too much on personal matters. And now she was missing, and there was an immense amount of blood in the bathroom. Devon’s heart beat in a light staccato against his throat. She had to be okay.

“Where else have you looked?” He scanned the other corridors leading from the fountain entryway. He’d need guidance or he’d get lost in this labyrinth.

“I haven’t checked the therapy rooms yet.” Naomi nodded toward the larger central corridor, which ended at another set of double doors.

He headed toward them when Becca reached out to grab his arm in a bony but strong grip. “You can’t just barge into private sessions.”

“Why not?” He turned to face the two women. “There’s blood in your bathroom and Jessica Ortiz is missing.”

Naomi’s light brown eyes skewered him. “Do you really think it’s wise to cause a panic?”

“And I suppose you have another option?”

“Sessions don’t last more than an hour or ninety minutes. We’ll wait for those to finish—if Jessica’s just in one of those, there’s nothing to worry about. In the meantime, we’ll check all the empty session rooms,” Naomi said.

Becca turned to leave and said over her shoulder, “I’ll check on the schedule at the receptionists’ desk to find out which rooms have clients and when the sessions end. I’ll call you on your cell.”

Naomi turned down a corridor in the opposite direction, this one lined with bamboo tables draped with shimmery, lavender-colored fabric so light that it swayed as they moved past.

It reminded Devon of the papery silks he’d seen in Thailand, giving the spa a soothing and very Asian atmosphere. His heartbeat slowed. Jessica was probably fine and had accidentally taken someone else’s session in her artless, friendly way. She’d emerge from a facial or a manicure in a few minutes and wonder what all the fuss was about.

A group of three therapists turned a corner. They spied Naomi and immediately stopped chatting amongst themselves, although not fearfully—more out of respect that the boss was suddenly in front of them.

“Girls, have you seen Ms. Ortiz?” Naomi’s smile seemed perfectly natural and warm—inviting a rapport with her staff, yet not too cozy. If Devon hadn’t noticed her fingers plucking at the linen fabric of her pants, he wouldn’t have known how anxious she was.

Two of them shook their heads, but the tall blond woman to his left nodded and pointed directly across the corridor. “I saw her talking to Ms. Fischer about an hour ago before Ms. Fischer went in for her manicure.”

His heartbeat picked up. “An hour ago?”

The blonde eyed him with a hard look, but a quick glance at Naomi seemed to allay her suspicions. He had the impression that if her boss hadn’t been by his side, he’d have been thrown out, even if it took all three women to do it.

Naomi was shaking her head. “Ms. Cormorand saw her leave the Tamarind lounge only thirty minutes ago.”

His hopes popped and fizzled.

The blonde jerked her head at the nearby door. “Ms. Fischer is almost done in room thirty-five if you want to talk to her anyway.”

“That’s a good idea. Thanks, Betsy.”

Betsy nodded, and the silent trio headed down the corridor and around the corner.

Copyright © 2009 by Camy Tang

Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A.

My thoughts? See this previous blog post!

~Cecelia Dowdy~

Deadly Intent by Camy Tang


Deadly Intent by Camy Tang
From Amazon.com:
Product Description
The Grant family’s exclusive Sonoma spa is a place for rest and relaxation—not murder! When Naomi Grant finds her client Jessica Ortiz bleeding to death in her massage room, everything falls apart. The salon’s reputation is at stake…and so is Naomi’s freedom when she discovers that she is one of the main suspects! Her only solace is found with the other suspect—Dr. Devon Knightley, the victim’s ex-husband. But Devon is hiding secrets of his own. When they come to light, where can Naomi turn…and whom can she trust?

==
This was a suspenseful novel and I enjoyed that some of the scenes took place in a posh spa where the rich come for rest and relaxation. However, when one of Naomi’s clients is found murdered, things drastically change at her family’s business! Who would murder Jessica, and why? When Dr. Devon Knightley, Jessica’s ex-husband, appears at the spa, demanding to see Jessica, moments before she is murdered, the mystery takes on another twist.

Naomi has met Devon at social functions, and wonders why he’s never attempted to contact her on his own. She’s attracted to him, but needs to be honest with
herself – he’s an atheist and she’s a Christian. How could that union happy?

Devon wonders about the death of his ex-wife as his own life becomes risky. It appears someone is trying to kill him, but who would want to harm him and why?

This book moves quickly and you can finish it in a short amount of time. The story and the characters will pull you in for an enjoyable, fast-paced read.

~Cecelia Dowdy~

Last Light by Terri Blackstock


Last Light by Terri Blackstock
Publisher: Zondervan (January 1, 2005)
ISBN-10: 0739461303
ISBN-13: 978-0739461303

From Barnesandnoble.com:
After an unexplained catastrophic event in the atmosphere knocks out all electronics in the world, materialistic, well-to-do Americans are suddenly left helpless. And as they get down to the essentials of life, they learn to lean on God as they never have before. Book One in the Restoration Series.

===
This book was really amazing! Blackstock is one of my favorites and the last series that I read which was written by her was the Cape Refuge Series.

This book starts off with a bang! After Deni Branning and her father, Doug, exit a plane at the airport, a couple of planes fall from the sky, crashing on the runway…burning! People are getting hurt and all of the lights and telephones in the airport fail to function! Once Deni and her father get to their car, they notice it won’t start…neither will the other cars in the garage.

Soon, it becomes apparant that most electric and electronic devices no longer function! People are forced to walk home from work; once they are at home, there’s not way, or reason, for them to go to work since there are no electronic devices to run a business! Soon, stores run out of food and merchandise, there’s an unfillable demand for bicyles.

Plus, there’s a killer in the Brannings neighborhood. Things get brutal because there is little that the police and other security forces can do since they are no longer equipped to protect their citizens.

This is a scary book, suspenseful, and kind of deep. It reminds me of a suspense novel and a science fiction novel rolled into one book! It also shows how people turn savage during times of need. Doug tries to convince his family to lean on God during this crisis.

This book reminded me of a few things. Bear with me as I explain myself!

#1. This book reminded me of the Twilight Zone. Deni mentions this show at the beginning of the book. If you’ve been reading this blog long enough, you’ll realize that I’m a fan of this show. I watch the reruns when the sci-fi channel has Twilight Zone marathons on New Year’s Day and Fourth of July.

#2. This book reminded me of the classic novel, Lord Of The Flies. I guess it reminded me of this because the characters were almost stranded with little food and no means to get what they wanted. In Last Light, people turn savage and sometimes kill for food, trying to survive.

#3. Last Light reminded me of a snowstorm in my area about ten or fifteen years ago. The grocery stores were extremely low on food and a fight broke out in the grocery store over a carton of milk!

This book will make you think. After I read it, as I brushed my teeth, made dinner, or ate a piece of cheesecake, I thought about how we take things for granted day by day. We need to realize how truly blessed we are!

I highly recommend this novel. My only gripe was…

SPOILER BELOW

The electronics and electricity are still not working by the end of the story!! We assume it’s God who’s making the lights and electronics malfunction. However, I want to see the lights come back on!! I guess I’ll need to read the next book in the series to see what happens! This is a series of four novels, I believe.

~Cecelia Dowdy~

Always Watching by Brandilyn Collins & Amberly Collins


Always Watching by Brandilyn and Amberly Collins
I blogged about this novel yesterday. I thought the book was good, and it doesn’t take a long time to read this novel. You can probably finish it in a day or so. Shaley O’Conner is the daughter of the famous rock singer, Rayne. Her world changes when she finds Tom, her good friend and her mother’s makeup artist/hairdresser, dead in one of the rooms backstage. Plus, his eye is missing! Stunned, she wonders if the killer is after her next, especially when clues start popping up: A white rose and a photo with a mysterious message.

Over the next three days Shaley can barely eat or sleep since she doesn’t know who the killer is, or if she’s the next target. She wonders if her unknown father is trying to reach out to her. Her mother, ever busy, slows down and pays more attention to Shaley during the three-day ordeal, as the police struggle to find Tom’s killer.

This book provided a few hours of chilling enjoyment. I highly recommend this book.

~Cecelia Dowdy~

Always Watching by Brandilyn and Amberly Collins

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

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

Today’s Wild Card author is:

and the book:

Always Watching, book 1 in the new Rayne Tour series

Zondervan (May 1, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHORs:

Brandilyn and Amberly Collins are a mother/daughter team from northern California. Brandilyn is a bestselling novelist, known for her trademarked “Seatbelt Suspense”. Amberly is a college student in southern California. She and her mom love attending concerts together.

Visit the author’s website.

Online Promotions-Sweepstakes, Book Trailer, Facebook and More

The Rayne Tourseries is being promoted heavily to teen readers online. The LIVE LIKE A ROCKSTAR SWEEPSTAKES is a chance for teens ages 13-18 to win an $850 night out on the town, including dinner for six at a restaurant of their choice and limo service. To enter, teens must promote the series online. They can post information about the new series and the sweepstakes on their Blog, favorite social media sites, or other Web site. The first 200 entrants will receive a free copy of Always Watching. Official rules and entry details are available here.

Other promotions include “The Rayne Tour Series” Fan Club page on Facebook and “The Rayne Tour Series” Shoutlife page.

Product Details:

List Price: $9.99
Reading level: Young Adult
Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (May 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310715393
ISBN-13: 978-0310715399

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

FRIDAY

PROLOGUE

It’s not my fault I have to kill.

He’d been watching since the tour began. Eyes straight ahead, keeping cool, like he wasn’t even paying attention. But he noticed everything. Even got a sense for what was happening behind his back. His past life had taught him how to do that—out of necessity. When it was something bad, he felt a vibration in the air, pulling up the hair on his arms. And he’d know. He’d just know.

Sometimes he acted behind the scenes. Nothing that would be noticed. Just ended up in a certain place at a certain time—a presence that kept the wrong thing from happening. Other times he’d say what needed to be heard. Real casual, not sounding like a threat at all. No, he was just talking, shooting the breeze about some previous experience. But beneath the words there’d be a point: don’t cross me or mine.

Sometimes people were too dumb to get it. He’d give them every chance, trying to be the nice guy. Trying to do it the easy way. But no. Those kind of people had stubborn minds and black hearts. Couldn’t be trusted. They were headed for a fall and about to take some good people with them. His people.

That’s what it had come to now.

“Hey, can I see you a sec before you go?” He motioned, and the one who must die came, humming.

Humming.

Like a lamb to slaughter.

CHAPTER 1

The screams of twenty thousand people sizzled in my ears.

“Rayne, you reign! Rayne, you reign! Rayne, you reign! …”

At the sold-out HP Pavilion in San Jose, California the crowd chanted and clapped and stomped for my mom’s group, Rayne—named after her—to do one more song as they left the stage. As usual I stood backstage with Tom Hutchens, my mom’s twenty-five-year-old hair dresser and makeup artist, and my closest friend on tour. Tom was short and slim, with thick black hair and an intense-looking face that didn’t match his crazy personality at all.

Tom feigned the pucker of a hip-hop artist and splayed his fingers in front of his red T-shirt. “Yo, she reign, they go insane!” He had to shout at me, his Vans-clad feet dancing. Tom always wore these wild-looking sneakers with blue, white, and red checks and a red racing stripe on the sides. “Ain’t nothin’ plain about rockin’ Rayne!”

I punched him in the arm, laughing. His silly rap rhymes were getting worse by the day.

Blonde hair bouncing, Mom came flying down the steps on the way to her private dressing room for the two-minute break. Sweat shone on her forehead as she passed by. She flashed her red-lipped grin at me and raised a palm. We high-fived as she sped past.

“They love us, Shaley!”

“’Course, Mom, they always do!”

The rest of the rock group—Kim, Morrey, Rich and Stan—descended more slowly, their faces showing fatigue. None of them had the energy of my mother after a concert. Tom and I gave them a quick thumbs-up before scurrying after Mom.

As we hit the dressing room with Rayne O’Connor’s name on the door, I checked my watch. 10:45. Yay! Almost time to head to the airport and pick up my best friend, Brittany. I hadn’t seen her since Rayne started touring three months ago, and I couldn’t wait to be with her again. This was Rayne’s third tour, and I always found it hard to leave all my school friends behind.

Without Tom to keep me laughing, touring would be terribly lonely.

I closed the dressing room door, shutting out some of the noise.

“Whoo.” Mom crossed to the left side of the room and plopped into the makeup chair facing a long, brightly lit mirror. To her right sat a wooden armoire full of her clothing. She always changed outfits during intermission. Along the back wall were the blue sofa and matching armchairs specified by contract for her dressing area in every arena. Opposite the makeup counter was the table loaded with catered food, also specified by contract—bowls of fruit, sandwiches, pasta salad, cheese cubes, chips, and M&Ms for me.

Mom studied herself in the mirror with her large crystal blue eyes. “Okay, Tom, do your magic.” She guzzled a drink from a water bottle on the counter.

Like she needed any magic. With her high cheekbones, oval face, and full lips, Mom was drop-dead gorgeous.

Tom winked at me as he snatched up a tissue. Sticking his scrawny neck out, he scrutinized Mom with animation, eyes narrowed and his mouth a rounded O. “Hm. Hmm.”

He sighed, stood back and spread his hands as if to say nothing to be done here, you’re perfect.

Mom rolled her eyes at me. I shrugged. As if I could control Tom’s antics.

“All right, lover boy.” Mom took another swig of water. “Get to it, I’ve got one minute left.”

“Yo, big Mama.”

Mom swatted his hand. “Would you stop calling me that? I don’t know why I put up with you.” Her mouth curved.

Tom leaned in to blot her face with the tissue. “’Cause I make you look bodacious, that’s why.” Expertly he retouched her blusher and lipstick, fluffed her hair.

Out in the arena the crowd’s yells and applause was growing louder. I smiled and squeezed Mom’s shoulder. Every concert the fans went wild, but it never got old for me. Night after night their adoration set pride for my mom welling in my chest.

Five years ago when I was eleven and Mom was twenty-eight, Rayne was barely hanging on. Mom and the band played little concerts here and there, working night and day to get noticed. I remember how hard she tried back then. A great lyric writer with a distinct, throaty-edged voice, she deserved to make it big. Then the song Far and Near hit the radio and after that—a rocket launch.

Tom stood back and surveyed Mom, his head cocked to one side. “Not bad. Not bad a-tall.”

“Rayne, you reign! Rayne, you reign!” The crowd was going crazy out there.

Mom tossed her hair back, looked at herself from side to side. “Great.” She sprang from the chair. “Gotta go.” She hurried toward the door.

I moved out of her way. “Mom, don’t forget we’re going to pick up Brittany in ten minutes. We’re leaving a little early because Tom wants to stop by a drugstore.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Mom pulled up short, one hand on the door knob. She looked to Tom. “Somebody else doing your clean-up?”

He glanced at me. “Got it taken care of.”

Disappointment pulled at my mouth. Mom knew how I’d counted the days until Brittany’s and my junior year of high school ended—just yesterday. My tutor had flown home this morning, and now Brittany was coming for two weeks. Mom was paying all her expenses—for that I was so grateful. But Mom could get so wrapped up in her work. Sometimes I just needed her to remember me.

Mom looked my way—and caught my expression. She smiled too wide, as if to make up for her distraction. “I’m so glad Brittany’s coming, Shaley. We’ll show her a great time.”

I nodded.

“Mick’s going with you, right?”

“Yeah.”

Mick Rader had been my mom’s main personal bodyguard for the past three years. The other two, Bruce Stolz and Wendell Bennington, would guard her on her way to the hotel tonight while Mick was with me.

“Okay, good. You’ll be safe.” Mom smiled as she opened the door. The crowd’s screams rushed in. “See you at the hotel.”

She blew me a kiss and disappeared.

The yelling suddenly frayed my nerves. I pushed the door shut and leaned against it.

Tom shot me his sad clown look, his lips turned down and eyebrows pulled into a V. He always read my mind so well.

I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay.”

His expression whisked away. Tom struck his hip-hop pose. “Got a new one for ya.”

“Oh, yeah?” I knew he’d create the lyrics as he went along, just to get me laughing again.

Tom’s feet started their shuffle-dance. “Let’s go for a ride down the avenue. Top down, wind-blown, my VW. The talk of the town in all we do. Shaley O’Connor puttin’ on the view—”

He froze, mouth open, frowning hard. Then jerked back into dancing. “Can’t think of another line, can you?”

I giggled. “Great, Tom, as fabulous as all your others.”

He bowed. “Thank ya, thank yaaa.”

Pulling up straight, he glanced at the wall clock. “Yikes, I gotta take care of some things before the limo comes. Meet you at the back exit?”

“Okay.”

As the door closed behind him, I crossed the room to check myself in the mirror. Excitement pulsed through my veins. Almost time to see Brittany! I chose a neutral lipstick and leaned toward the glass to apply it. Thanks to Tom I’d learned a lot of makeup tricks, and my face needed little retouching. Finished with the lipstick, I ran a brush through my long brown hair. Tom had recently layered it and feathered the bangs. I liked the look.

Despite the difference in hair color, many people said I looked like my mother. I considered that a high compliment.

I stood back and turned side to side. Not bad. My new designer jeans fit well and the blue top matched my eyes. Brittany would love the outfit. I grinned at myself, then glanced at the clock. Almost time for the limo to arrive.

In the arena the crowd roared. Rayne was taking the stage. The first of two encore songs started—the band’s new hit Do it Up Right.

For a few minutes I paced the room impatiently, munching M&Ms. Rayne launched into their final song of the night.

Two hard knocks sounded on the door—Mick’s signal. He stuck his square-shaped head inside. Mick is in his forties, ex-military. A thick neck and muscles out to here. Nobody messes with Mick. “Shaley, you ready?”

“Yes! Is the limo waiting?”

“Yeah.” His deep-set brown eyes swept the room. “Where’s Tom?”

“He said he had to take care of a few things. He’ll meet us at the door.” I crossed to the couch to pick up my purse.

“Okay. I’m going to stop in the bathroom, then I’ll see you there.” He gave me his squinty-eyed stare. “Don’t step outside of the building without me.”

I flicked a look at the ceiling. “Yeah, yeah.” Mick was so protective. It’s not like I’d be in any danger walking out that door. As with all arenas where Rayne sang, the HP Pavilion had a special entrance for performers, guarded by their own local security. And that whole section of the parking lot was roped off and guarded. No chance for any fans or paparazzi to sneak in.

Mick jabbed a finger at me for emphasis, then left.

Tingling with anticipation, I scurried out the door, intent on checking the other dressing rooms for Tom. No time to wait, let’s go, let’s go! Having been at the arena since four o’clock when sound checks began, I’d already learned the layout of the backstage area. There were eight dressing rooms—Mom’s the biggest.

I hurried down the wide hall, mouthing “hi” to people I passed. The sound and light crew were still working, but the backline crew—the guys who maintain all the instruments and switch them out during performances—were done now. Set carpenters, the managers, and all the people who tore down the stage also milled around until the concert ended.

First I went to the back exit and peeked outside. Tom wasn’t there.

I returned all the way up the hall, figuring I’d work my way back down.

For the first time I noticed all the dressing room doors were closed. Strange. If Tom had gone into one to pack up something, he’d have left the door open as a courtesy. Those assigned rooms were personal space to members of the band and Rayne’s production manager, Ross Blanke.

I peeked in the one next to Mom’s.

Empty.

Shoving my purse handles higher up my shoulder, I went to the third.

Empty again.

The fourth.

No Tom.

This wasn’t right. Tom was never late. Where was he?

Mick approached, signaling me with a roll of his finger—let’s get moving.

I nodded. “He wasn’t in the bathroom?”

Mick shook his head.

Together we walked to the fifth dressing room. Mick poked his head inside.

Empty.

I ran down to look in the sixth. No Tom.

I banged the door shut and looked around. What was going on? If he didn’t show up soon we wouldn’t have time to go out of our way to a drugstore. The airport was minutes away from the arena. We didn’t want Brittany waiting around by herself after dark.

“You take the next one.” Mick strode past me. “I’ll look in the one on the end.”

The seventh dressing room had been allocated as Ross’s office. At every venue he needed a private area for calling people, dealing with last-minute problems and basically seeing that everything in the contract was honored. I couldn’t remember seeing Ross in the hall. He might be inside, and I didn’t dare just barge in. The production manager’s office was off-limits to everyone unless invited.

I knocked, waited. Knocked harder.

No answer.

I opened the door.

Like Mom, Ross ordered the same room set-up each time. For him that included an oversized desk with black leather chair. On the desk he would stack his papers and folders, carefully position his laptop. A fax machine had to be on his left, a telephone with multiple lines on his right. Looking at Ross—a short, fat man with scraggly hair to his shoulders—you’d never guess what a neat freak he is.

And always on the wall—a large round clock.

As I stepped into the room, my eyes grazed that clock. 10:55. Brittany’s plane would be landing soon.

On the floor beside the desk I glimpsed a splash of color.

Something twisted inside my stomach, almost as if my subconscious mind had already registered the sight. Time seemed to slow.

Clutching the door handle, I turned my head toward the color.

A foot. On the floor sticking out from behind the desk. Wearing a Vans with blue, white and red checks, and a red racing strip. The foot lay on its side, toes pointed away from me, heel dug awkwardly into the carpet.

Deathly still.

CHAPTER 2

I stared across the room at the foot. The back of my neck prickled.

Run, my mind shouted. Run and check on Tom! But my feet rooted to the carpet, my fingers digging into the doorpost.

Onstage, the music stopped. Wild clapping and cheering rose from the arena.

The noise jerked me out of my zombie state. I lowered my purse from my shoulder. Set it on the floor. Holding my breath, I crept forward.

As I edged around the side of the desk, Tom’s jeaned leg came into view.

It wasn’t moving.

My legs stopped.

“T-Tom?” My voice cracked into a whisper.

No answer.

So what? He couldn’t have heard me above the crowd.

I took another step. Now I could see his second leg, drawn up and bent at the knee. Tom was lying on his side. I moved again and saw an arm flung out, fingers half-curled toward the palm.

I leapt forward until his head came into sight. Tom’s second arm lay crumpled against the carpet, his face partially turned into the short sleeve of his red T-shirt. His one visible eye was open, staring at the wall.

Air gushed out of my mouth. He was tricking me.

“You rotten thing!” I pushed at his leg with my toe. “How—”

No change. Just that wide-eyed stare.

All the relief that had spilled out of me reversed back down my throat. My windpipe closed until I could hardly breathe. I sank to my knees beside his chest.

“Tom?” I leaned down to look into both his eyes.

The other one was gone.

I mean gone. Just a black, bloody, gaping hole.

For the longest second of my life, all I could do was stare. It pulled at me, that hole. Like it wanted me to tumble inside it, a horror-film version of Alice in Wonderland.

Faintness gripped me. I swooned toward Tom’s ravaged face, my nose almost touching where his eye used to be …

At the last possible moment, my muscles jerked me back.

I shoved to my feet and screamed.

CHAPTER 3

My shrieks bounced off the walls during the crowd’s final shouts. In the same second all noise died away.

Silence rang in my ears.

I turned and ran.

Mick materialized in the doorway as I hurtled into it. I rammed into his rock-solid chest. With another scream I bounced off and collapsed on the carpet.

“What–?” Mick bent over me. I looked up, mouth flopping open. No sound came. I pointed a shaking finger toward Tom. Mick’s head jerked up.

Horror crossed his face.

He jumped over me and ran to Tom, his hand reaching for the gun clipped to his belt.

Mick bent down and disappeared behind the desk. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t do anything.

Voices of band members mingled in the hall, commenting on the performance. How strange the words sounded. So naïve. So unknowing.

Heavy footsteps approached. Ross rounded the corner and almost stepped on me.

“Ahhh!” I rolled away from him.

Mick raised up from behind the desk. Ross froze at the look on his face. “What’s going on?”

“Tom’s dead.” Mick’s voice was tight.

“What?”

“Somebody shot him.”

Ross blinked rapidly, then leapt around me to see for himself.

Mick reached for the phone on the desk. “I’m calling 911.”

I stared at the ceiling, mind going numb. My limbs felt like water. Tom was dead. Dead. My heart couldn’t grasp it. I’d just been with him. How could he be gone?

“Oh.” The word choked from Ross’s throat. He backed away from Tom.

“Yes,” Mick said into the phone. “I need to report a homicide. Hang on a minute.” He shoved the phone into Ross’s hand. “You talk to them. I need to get Bruce and Wendell. We’ll round up the band members, make sure they’re safe.”

Mom. Could whoever did this to Tom want to hurt her?

Mick ran past me, gun in hand. “Shaley, stay here.”

I barely heard him. Panic pushed me onto weak knees. I had to find my mother!

Somehow I crawled out the door. “Mom. Mommmm!”

Every person in the hallway jerked around.

Mick spun back to me. “Shaley, stay there!” He swung toward the others. “Everyone, against the wall and don’t move. Wendell, Bruce, where are you?”

People melted back, calling questions, their voices buzzing like a thousand bees in my head.

“Where’s my mom!”

Bruce ran out of the men’s bathroom, hand automatically going for his weapon. “What?” At six-foot-six, he has powerful, long legs and arms. I could see his head about everyone else’s.

Wendell burst from the stage area. “Here!”

“Shaley?” Mom’s sharpened voice filtered from up the hallway. “What’s happening?” She came toward me, eyes wide.

“Rayne, stay where you are!” Mick shouted.

Mom picked up speed. Her head whipped back and forth, gawking at everyone pressed against the walls. She started to run. “Shaley, are you all right?

I teetered to my feet. “Tom’s dead, Mom, he’s dead!”

Gasps rose from dozens of throats. Mom didn’t even slow. Mick grabbed her arm, but she yanked away. As if in a dream—a nightmare—I watched her tear-blurred form hurtle toward me. Mick, Bruce and Wendell spread their feet, guns raised, eyes darting back and forth, searching the hall for danger.

I flung myself forward, sobbing.

After an eternity Mom reached me. I collapsed into her arms, screaming Tom’s name.

My thoughts? I’m in the middle of the book right now and lovin’ it! I’ll be posting a review soon!

~Cecelia Dowdy~