{"id":660,"date":"2009-05-08T10:20:00","date_gmt":"2009-05-08T10:20:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/2009\/05\/always-watching-by-brandilyn-and-amberly-collins.html"},"modified":"2009-05-08T10:20:00","modified_gmt":"2009-05-08T10:20:00","slug":"always-watching-by-brandilyn-and","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/2009\/05\/always-watching-by-brandilyn-and\/","title":{"rendered":"Always Watching by Brandilyn and Amberly Collins"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/span><\/strong> 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!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Brandilyn and Amberly Collins <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Always Watching, book 1 in the new Rayne Tour series<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Zondervan (May 1, 2009) <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHORs:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332569789708437570\"<\/a>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. <\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Online Promotions-Sweepstakes, Book Trailer, Facebook and More<\/p>\n

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<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Other promotions include \u201cThe Rayne Tour Series\u201d Fan Club page on Facebook<\/a> and \u201cThe Rayne Tour Series\u201d Shoutlife page<\/a>.<\/p>\n

<\/param><\/param><\/object><\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

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 <\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"id=\"BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332569871024240546\"<\/a><\/p>\n

FRIDAY <\/p>\n

PROLOGUE<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not my fault I have to kill. <\/p>\n

He\u2019d been watching since the tour began. Eyes straight ahead, keeping cool, like he wasn\u2019t 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\u2014out of necessity. When it was something bad, he felt a vibration in the air, pulling up the hair on his arms. And he\u2019d know. He\u2019d just know.<\/p>\n

Sometimes he acted behind the scenes. Nothing that would be noticed. Just ended up in a certain place at a certain time\u2014a presence that kept the wrong thing from happening. Other times he\u2019d 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\u2019d be a point: don\u2019t cross me or mine.<\/p>\n

Sometimes people were too dumb to get it. He\u2019d 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\u2019t be trusted. They were headed for a fall and about to take some good people with them. His people.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s what it had come to now. <\/p>\n

\u201cHey, can I see you a sec before you go?\u201d He motioned, and the one who must die came, humming. <\/p>\n

Humming. <\/p>\n

Like a lamb to slaughter. <\/p>\n

CHAPTER 1<\/p>\n

The screams of twenty thousand people sizzled in my ears.<\/p>\n

\u201cRayne, you reign! Rayne, you reign! Rayne, you reign! \u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

At the sold-out HP Pavilion in San Jose, California the crowd chanted and clapped and stomped for my mom\u2019s group, Rayne\u2014named after her\u2014to do one more song as they left the stage. As usual I stood backstage with Tom Hutchens, my mom\u2019s 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\u2019t match his crazy personality at all. <\/p>\n

Tom feigned the pucker of a hip-hop artist and splayed his fingers in front of his red T-shirt. \u201cYo, she reign, they go insane!\u201d 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. \u201cAin\u2019t nothin\u2019 plain about rockin\u2019 Rayne!\u201d<\/p>\n

I punched him in the arm, laughing. His silly rap rhymes were getting worse by the day.<\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey love us, Shaley!\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019Course, Mom, they always do!\u201d<\/p>\n

The rest of the rock group\u2014Kim, Morrey, Rich and Stan\u2014descended 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. <\/p>\n

As we hit the dressing room with Rayne O\u2019Connor\u2019s 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\u2019t seen her since Rayne started touring three months ago, and I couldn\u2019t wait to be with her again. This was Rayne\u2019s third tour, and I always found it hard to leave all my school friends behind. <\/p>\n

Without Tom to keep me laughing, touring would be terribly lonely.<\/p>\n

I closed the dressing room door, shutting out some of the noise.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhoo.\u201d 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\u2014bowls of fruit, sandwiches, pasta salad, cheese cubes, chips, and M&Ms for me. <\/p>\n

Mom studied herself in the mirror with her large crystal blue eyes. \u201cOkay, Tom, do your magic.\u201d She guzzled a drink from a water bottle on the counter.<\/p>\n

Like she needed any magic. With her high cheekbones, oval face, and full lips, Mom was drop-dead gorgeous.<\/p>\n

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. \u201cHm. Hmm.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed, stood back and spread his hands as if to say nothing to be done here, you\u2019re perfect.<\/p>\n

Mom rolled her eyes at me. I shrugged. As if I could control Tom\u2019s antics. <\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, lover boy.\u201d Mom took another swig of water. \u201cGet to it, I\u2019ve got one minute left.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYo, big Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mom swatted his hand. \u201cWould you stop calling me that? I don\u2019t know why I put up with you.\u201d Her mouth curved.<\/p>\n

Tom leaned in to blot her face with the tissue. \u201c\u2019Cause I make you look bodacious, that\u2019s why.\u201d Expertly he retouched her blusher and lipstick, fluffed her hair. <\/p>\n

Out in the arena the crowd\u2019s yells and applause was growing louder. I smiled and squeezed Mom\u2019s 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. <\/p>\n

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\u2014a rocket launch. <\/p>\n

Tom stood back and surveyed Mom, his head cocked to one side. \u201cNot bad. Not bad a-tall.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRayne, you reign! Rayne, you reign!\u201d The crowd was going crazy out there.<\/p>\n

Mom tossed her hair back, looked at herself from side to side. \u201cGreat.\u201d She sprang from the chair. \u201cGotta go.\u201d She hurried toward the door.<\/p>\n

I moved out of her way. \u201cMom, don\u2019t forget we\u2019re going to pick up Brittany in ten minutes. We\u2019re leaving a little early because Tom wants to stop by a drugstore.\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cOh, that\u2019s right.\u201d Mom pulled up short, one hand on the door knob. She looked to Tom. \u201cSomebody else doing your clean-up?\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced at me. \u201cGot it taken care of.\u201d<\/p>\n

Disappointment pulled at my mouth. Mom knew how I\u2019d counted the days until Brittany\u2019s and my junior year of high school ended\u2014just yesterday. My tutor had flown home this morning, and now Brittany was coming for two weeks. Mom was paying all her expenses\u2014for that I was so grateful. But Mom could get so wrapped up in her work. Sometimes I just needed her to remember me. <\/p>\n

Mom looked my way\u2014and caught my expression. She smiled too wide, as if to make up for her distraction. \u201cI\u2019m so glad Brittany\u2019s coming, Shaley. We\u2019ll show her a great time.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cMick\u2019s going with you, right?\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d <\/p>\n

Mick Rader had been my mom\u2019s 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. <\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, good. You\u2019ll be safe.\u201d Mom smiled as she opened the door. The crowd\u2019s screams rushed in. \u201cSee you at the hotel.\u201d<\/p>\n

She blew me a kiss and disappeared.<\/p>\n

The yelling suddenly frayed my nerves. I pushed the door shut and leaned against it.<\/p>\n

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

I couldn\u2019t help but smile. \u201cIt\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

His expression whisked away. Tom struck his hip-hop pose. \u201cGot a new one for ya.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yeah?\u201d I knew he\u2019d create the lyrics as he went along, just to get me laughing again. <\/p>\n

Tom\u2019s feet started their shuffle-dance. \u201cLet\u2019s go for a ride down the avenue. Top down, wind-blown, my VW. The talk of the town in all we do. Shaley O\u2019Connor puttin\u2019 on the view\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He froze, mouth open, frowning hard. Then jerked back into dancing. \u201cCan\u2019t think of another line, can you?\u201d<\/p>\n

I giggled. \u201cGreat, Tom, as fabulous as all your others.\u201d<\/p>\n

He bowed. \u201cThank ya, thank yaaa.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pulling up straight, he glanced at the wall clock. \u201cYikes, I gotta take care of some things before the limo comes. Meet you at the back exit?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n

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\u2019d 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.<\/p>\n

Despite the difference in hair color, many people said I looked like my mother. I considered that a high compliment.<\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

In the arena the crowd roared. Rayne was taking the stage. The first of two encore songs started\u2014the band\u2019s new hit Do it Up Right. <\/p>\n

For a few minutes I paced the room impatiently, munching M&Ms. Rayne launched into their final song of the night.<\/p>\n

Two hard knocks sounded on the door\u2014Mick\u2019s 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. \u201cShaley, you ready?\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cYes! Is the limo waiting?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d His deep-set brown eyes swept the room. \u201cWhere\u2019s Tom?\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cHe said he had to take care of a few things. He\u2019ll meet us at the door.\u201d I crossed to the couch to pick up my purse.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay. I\u2019m going to stop in the bathroom, then I\u2019ll see you there.\u201d He gave me his squinty-eyed stare. \u201cDon\u2019t step outside of the building without me.\u201d<\/p>\n

I flicked a look at the ceiling. \u201cYeah, yeah.\u201d Mick was so protective. It\u2019s not like I\u2019d 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.<\/p>\n

Mick jabbed a finger at me for emphasis, then left. <\/p>\n

Tingling with anticipation, I scurried out the door, intent on checking the other dressing rooms for Tom. No time to wait, let\u2019s go, let\u2019s go! Having been at the arena since four o\u2019clock when sound checks began, I\u2019d already learned the layout of the backstage area. There were eight dressing rooms\u2014Mom\u2019s the biggest. <\/p>\n

I hurried down the wide hall, mouthing \u201chi\u201d to people I passed. The sound and light crew were still working, but the backline crew\u2014the guys who maintain all the instruments and switch them out during performances\u2014were done now. Set carpenters, the managers, and all the people who tore down the stage also milled around until the concert ended. <\/p>\n

First I went to the back exit and peeked outside. Tom wasn\u2019t there.<\/p>\n

I returned all the way up the hall, figuring I\u2019d work my way back down.<\/p>\n

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\u2019d have left the door open as a courtesy. Those assigned rooms were personal space to members of the band and Rayne\u2019s production manager, Ross Blanke. <\/p>\n

I peeked in the one next to Mom\u2019s.<\/p>\n

Empty.<\/p>\n

Shoving my purse handles higher up my shoulder, I went to the third. <\/p>\n

Empty again.<\/p>\n

The fourth.<\/p>\n

No Tom.<\/p>\n

This wasn\u2019t right. Tom was never late. Where was he?<\/p>\n

Mick approached, signaling me with a roll of his finger\u2014let\u2019s get moving. <\/p>\n

I nodded. \u201cHe wasn\u2019t in the bathroom?\u201d <\/p>\n

Mick shook his head. <\/p>\n

Together we walked to the fifth dressing room. Mick poked his head inside. <\/p>\n

Empty.<\/p>\n

I ran down to look in the sixth. No Tom. <\/p>\n

I banged the door shut and looked around. What was going on? If he didn\u2019t show up soon we wouldn\u2019t have time to go out of our way to a drugstore. The airport was minutes away from the arena. We didn\u2019t want Brittany waiting around by herself after dark.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou take the next one.\u201d Mick strode past me. \u201cI\u2019ll look in the one on the end.\u201d<\/p>\n

The seventh dressing room had been allocated as Ross\u2019s 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\u2019t remember seeing Ross in the hall. He might be inside, and I didn\u2019t dare just barge in. The production manager\u2019s office was off-limits to everyone unless invited.<\/p>\n

I knocked, waited. Knocked harder. <\/p>\n

No answer.<\/p>\n

I opened the door.<\/p>\n

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\u2014a short, fat man with scraggly hair to his shoulders\u2014you\u2019d never guess what a neat freak he is. <\/p>\n

And always on the wall\u2014a large round clock. <\/p>\n

As I stepped into the room, my eyes grazed that clock. 10:55. Brittany\u2019s plane would be landing soon. <\/p>\n

On the floor beside the desk I glimpsed a splash of color. <\/p>\n

Something twisted inside my stomach, almost as if my subconscious mind had already registered the sight. Time seemed to slow. <\/p>\n

Clutching the door handle, I turned my head toward the color.<\/p>\n

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. <\/p>\n

Deathly still. <\/p>\n

CHAPTER 2<\/p>\n

I stared across the room at the foot. The back of my neck prickled. <\/p>\n

Run, my mind shouted. Run and check on Tom! But my feet rooted to the carpet, my fingers digging into the doorpost. <\/p>\n

Onstage, the music stopped. Wild clapping and cheering rose from the arena. <\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

As I edged around the side of the desk, Tom\u2019s jeaned leg came into view. <\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t moving.<\/p>\n

My legs stopped. <\/p>\n

\u201cT-Tom?\u201d My voice cracked into a whisper. <\/p>\n

No answer. <\/p>\n

So what? He couldn\u2019t have heard me above the crowd.<\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

I leapt forward until his head came into sight. Tom\u2019s 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. <\/p>\n

Air gushed out of my mouth. He was tricking me. <\/p>\n

\u201cYou rotten thing!\u201d I pushed at his leg with my toe. \u201cHow\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

No change. Just that wide-eyed stare.<\/p>\n

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. <\/p>\n

\u201cTom?\u201d I leaned down to look into both his eyes. <\/p>\n

The other one was gone. <\/p>\n

I mean gone. Just a black, bloody, gaping hole. <\/p>\n

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. <\/p>\n

Faintness gripped me. I swooned toward Tom\u2019s ravaged face, my nose almost touching where his eye used to be \u2026<\/p>\n

At the last possible moment, my muscles jerked me back.<\/p>\n

I shoved to my feet and screamed.<\/p>\n

CHAPTER 3<\/p>\n

My shrieks bounced off the walls during the crowd\u2019s final shouts. In the same second all noise died away. <\/p>\n

Silence rang in my ears.<\/p>\n

I turned and ran.<\/p>\n

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.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat–?\u201d Mick bent over me. I looked up, mouth flopping open. No sound came. I pointed a shaking finger toward Tom. Mick\u2019s head jerked up. <\/p>\n

Horror crossed his face.<\/p>\n

He jumped over me and ran to Tom, his hand reaching for the gun clipped to his belt. <\/p>\n

Mick bent down and disappeared behind the desk. I couldn\u2019t get up. I couldn\u2019t do anything.<\/p>\n

Voices of band members mingled in the hall, commenting on the performance. How strange the words sounded. So na\u00efve. So unknowing. <\/p>\n

Heavy footsteps approached. Ross rounded the corner and almost stepped on me. <\/p>\n

\u201cAhhh!\u201d I rolled away from him. <\/p>\n

Mick raised up from behind the desk. Ross froze at the look on his face. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTom\u2019s dead.\u201d Mick\u2019s voice was tight. <\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomebody shot him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ross blinked rapidly, then leapt around me to see for himself.<\/p>\n

Mick reached for the phone on the desk. \u201cI\u2019m calling 911.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at the ceiling, mind going numb. My limbs felt like water. Tom was dead. Dead. My heart couldn\u2019t grasp it. I\u2019d just been with him. How could he be gone? <\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d The word choked from Ross\u2019s throat. He backed away from Tom. <\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Mick said into the phone. \u201cI need to report a homicide. Hang on a minute.\u201d He shoved the phone into Ross\u2019s hand. \u201cYou talk to them. I need to get Bruce and Wendell. We\u2019ll round up the band members, make sure they\u2019re safe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mom. Could whoever did this to Tom want to hurt her?<\/p>\n

Mick ran past me, gun in hand. \u201cShaley, stay here.\u201d<\/p>\n

I barely heard him. Panic pushed me onto weak knees. I had to find my mother!<\/p>\n

Somehow I crawled out the door. \u201cMom. Mommmm!\u201d <\/p>\n

Every person in the hallway jerked around. <\/p>\n

Mick spun back to me. \u201cShaley, stay there!\u201d He swung toward the others. \u201cEveryone, against the wall and don\u2019t move. Wendell, Bruce, where are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

People melted back, calling questions, their voices buzzing like a thousand bees in my head.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s my mom!\u201d<\/p>\n

Bruce ran out of the men\u2019s bathroom, hand automatically going for his weapon. \u201cWhat?\u201d At six-foot-six, he has powerful, long legs and arms. I could see his head about everyone else\u2019s.<\/p>\n

Wendell burst from the stage area. \u201cHere!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShaley?\u201d Mom\u2019s sharpened voice filtered from up the hallway. \u201cWhat\u2019s happening?\u201d She came toward me, eyes wide. <\/p>\n

\u201cRayne, stay where you are!\u201d Mick shouted.<\/p>\n

Mom picked up speed. Her head whipped back and forth, gawking at everyone pressed against the walls. She started to run. \u201cShaley, are you all right?<\/p>\n

I teetered to my feet. \u201cTom\u2019s dead, Mom, he\u2019s dead!\u201d <\/p>\n

Gasps rose from dozens of throats. Mom didn\u2019t even slow. Mick grabbed her arm, but she yanked away. As if in a dream\u2014a nightmare\u2014I 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.<\/p>\n

I flung myself forward, sobbing.<\/p>\n

After an eternity Mom reached me. I collapsed into her arms, screaming Tom\u2019s name.<\/div>\n

My thoughts? I’m in the middle of the book right now and lovin’ it! I’ll be posting a review soon!<\/p>\n

~Cecelia Dowdy~<\/a><\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[12,38,19,16],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-660","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-book-talk","category-first-wild-card-blog-tour","category-mystery-and-suspense-titles","category-zondervan"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paovYP-aE","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/660","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=660"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/660\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=660"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=660"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=660"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}