Monday, December 23, 2013

Review - The Flight of the Griffin by C.M. Gray

The Kingdom is dying…

The Darkness is coming… the balance between Order and Chaos is rapidly shifting and the world is falling towards evil and horror, and all misery that Chaos will bring.

But there is hope…

Pardigan’s had enough, he’s only 12, but he’s breaking into the home of one of Freya's richest merchants... and he’s doing it tonight…

A burglary that will change their lives forever sets four friends upon a quest, a race against time, to locate three magical objects and complete an ancient and desperate spell.

Sailing their boat The Griffin, the crew are quickly pursued by The Hawk, an evil bounty hunter and master of dark sorcery, and Belial, King of Demons and champion of Chaos who seeks to rule the world of man… yet first he must capture the crew of The Griffin and end their quest…
It's been a while since I picked up a book like The Flight of the Griffin by C.M Gray. I've been reading mostly Amish Fiction lately so it was nice to jump back in to the world of fantasy.

The four friends in this story embark on a Quest that has fallen to them to complete thanks to the skilled thievery of one of their own. With the stolen loot comes a guide that can take the form of a cat, owl, panther, and girl. Mahra. It's her job, although she can't quite remember all of it, to ensure that specific tasks are carried out in a specific order in the hopes that the world will once more balance itself out and Chaos will no longer reign supreme. Their efforts are thwarted by the victim of their theft, his hired thug, and a demon with a hunger for human flesh.

I wish I had read this book when I was younger. Or rather, that it had been around to read. One of my favorite parts of the entire story was when Pardigan, Tarent, Quint, and Loras were transformed in to the version of themselves they it seems they were supposed to be all along. I mean, what young person wouldn't give their left arm to go from being just an ordinary, trouble making dreamer to a super human version of themselves with the ability to turn invisible, or perform outstanding magic, or disappear from one place and reappear in another. It's an amazing story simply for that part of the book. It gives voice to the wishes of countless people who secretly wish they could do the things these 4 do in this story.

I love the world that they live in, minus the bad things that are happening as a result of it being unbalanced. I loved the ugly Hidden and the entertaining Azif. Bartholomew was ridiculous but provided comic relief on more than one occasion. The descriptions of all of these people and the places they were going was such that I could imagine it all in my head as if it were right in front of me. There were also some awesome plot twists, especially toward the end, that made the story that much more... just... wonderful.

There wasn't really one character that I'd call my favorite, I don't think. Each one had something special about him (or her) and a purpose that made them all equally important and interesting to read about. I can tell you, though, that Hawk was definitely my least favorite. Why not the demon he summoned, you ask. Well, a demon is a demon and will act as demons do. It's in their nature. Hawk was the evil behind the demon and the reason for it's existence in the human world.

The fact that there were mysterious characters that appeared or awakened at certain points throughout the story was another of my favorite parts. Kind of reminds me of how, at the end of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, Capt. Barbosa is hidden in the back room of Tia Dalma's hut, just waiting to be brought back in to the story.

The Flight of the Griffin was fantastic. It was a fun read and it kept me entertained. It's good for younger readers but can be enjoyed by older readers as well as everyone in between. And I would recommend it to anyone looking for a quick-ish adventurous fantasy novel that's action packed and magical.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Book Spotlight - The Flight of the Griffin by C.M. Gray




The Kingdom is dying…

The Darkness is coming… the balance between Order and Chaos is rapidly shifting and the world is falling towards evil and horror, and all misery that Chaos will bring.

But there is hope…

Pardigan’s had enough, he’s only 12, but he’s breaking into the home of one of Freya's richest merchants... and he’s doing it tonight…

A burglary that will change their lives forever sets four friends upon a quest, a race against time, to locate three magical objects and complete an ancient and desperate spell.

Sailing their boat The Griffin, the crew are quickly pursued by The Hawk, an evil bounty hunter and master of dark sorcery, and Belial, King of Demons and champion of Chaos who seeks to rule the world of man… yet first he must capture the crew of The Griffin and end their quest…
Purchase your copy at AMAZON US or AMAZON UK

Discuss this book in our PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads by clicking HERE.

About the Author:

Born in England, C.M. Gray spent most of his youth growing up in the Essex countryside. A beautiful part of England, close to the Suffolk border, but he was born with the need to expand his horizons, so as soon as he could get a passport at the age of just seventeen he packed a backpack and went exploring!

A slightly risky decision, and one his parents were not too taken with, yet a number of years later he is still traveling…. but with a slightly larger bag. Over the years, C.M.Gray has been lucky enough to live and travel in many many parts of the world, met some incredible people and experienced some amazing places. In fact, he has now lived for more years outside of England than he ever spent living there – It is, after all, a very big and exciting world!

During his journey he worked and trained as a carpenter and a house restorer… picked more types of fruit over the years than he knew existed - from grapes in France to avocados in Israel. After living in Israel for a year, he was lucky enough to be invited to travel with the Bedouin in the Sanai desert for several months and then moved on travelled around India and then called a Buddhist monastery in the Himalayan Mountains home. A short while later he had changed tact, bought a suit and did a stint as a stock broker in the clamor of central Hong Kong.

To celebrate the millennium he traveled back to Europe, then found and restored an old farmhouse in deep rural Burgundy, France… but then looked to the open road and spent an number of years in Amsterdam… but the winters were cold so he went south again in search of the sun.

Always vowing to return and sink some roots back in English soil... he hasn’t quite got there yet, but maybe someday, it seems there are just too many interesting places out there to see first! He does, however, live a little closer to England now, just outside of Barcelona in Northern Spain, in the middle of the forest with his dogs and two wonderful children, he claims the Pyrenean mountains and forests of northern Spain are a great place to write and let his mind do the traveling.

As you will have noticed, his writing is mostly fantasy and he says that many of his experiences in Asia, India, Africa and the Middle East come to life in his writing. He has seen and done some pretty strange things on his travels, and bumped into some amazing characters, so writing fantasy is almost like writing fact for him… you just wouldn’t believe it if he presented it as fact – there are people and things out there in this world of ours that would simply amaze you!

His latest book is the mystery/thriller The Flight of the Griffin.

To explore his life and writing more, please visit his webpage and blog at https://author-cmgray.blogspot.com

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Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Review - Run With the Wolves Volume One: The Pack by T c Tombs

It is the fifteenth century, and three kingdoms are caught up in the dire conflicts of their time. As the possibility of a peaceful resolution provides hope that a decade-long war will finally end, no one realizes that dark forces are waiting to invoke chaos as a full moon rises.

On a farm nestled beneath the Euralene Mountains along the western border of Medinia, young Willie works for the Smythes as a serf. One moonlit evening when the Smythes are gone to a neighbouring village, Willie hears the terrified cries of animals in the pastures. When he goes to investigate, he discovers that this wolf pack attack is like no other. Badly injured during the raid, he survives-but now he is afflicted by the full-moon madness that will soon transform him into one of the wolf creatures he dreads. With his life seemingly warped forever, Willie must face the prospect of a lifelong descent into horror.

In a time of witchcraft, superstitious folk lore, and fear-some creatures roaming the night, Willie struggles with an uncertain destiny and must seek help from the one man he holds most responsible for the dark fate that awaits him during the next full moon cycle.
I love reading historical fantasy novels. The Pack, volume one in the Run With the Wolves series by T c Tombs, is no exception.

Medinia and Skoland are always at odds it seems. However, the rulers of both lands have decided that it's time for peace, as they're draining their coffers of much needed funds. Talks of an arranged marriage between the daughter of the king in Medinia and the son of the king in Skoland are taking place as well.

Willie was given to the Smythes by the monks in the monastery and wants nothing more than to go along with his friend and his master when they leave one afternoon, but is left to care for the homestead and the animals, as is his job, with the promise of perhaps going to see the caravan when it arrives in the fall. He doesn't know that his life is going to change forever just a few hours after he's left on his own.

A pack of wolves, too big to be normal wolves, and what looks to be wolf-men descend on the farmland of Willie's master. In a fierce, but unfortunately predictable battle, Willie loses his 2 furry companions and his horse, as well as several of his masters herd. Most of all, Willie's blood is now poisoned with the same affliction that plagues the two dozen men and wolves that attacked him.

Varakov. A third kingdom situated in such a position that they control the mountain pass and therefore everything that moves in to the other two. It's well fortified and resplendent... and ruled by a king who is dark and cruel and seemingly the very definition of evil. He's not please that the neighboring kingdoms have thrown down their weapons, so to speak. A union between the two could very well mean the down fall of his own kingdom, and he refuses to let that happen.

This book started out with a bang. A sad one, as I hate to see animals die - it breaks my heart completely - but a bang none the less. It literally made my heart ache reading about the loyalty Willie's dogs showed their friend in their final moments. The fact that it was virtually at the beginning of the book just made it worse.

It slowed down quite a bit after the initial action. As a result, it was a tad tedious to read in some places. But, I've got to give the author credit. There was a LOT of world building to do.  You get a lot of the history of the countries and background on The Pack and the relationship between Woodrow and the other members (especially Brutus, who I like MUCH better when there isn't a full moon). It's very descriptive, perhaps unnecessarily so in some places. But the details make it easy to picture the setting of the story.

Woodrow was a quiet character. Someone who seemed to have begrudgingly taken his place at the helm of the pack. He was loyal even when loyalty wasn't earned nor deserved. And he was kind even when he didn't have to be.

Lord Victor absolutely disgusted me. He was foul and just absolutely horrible. If I had been watching this as a movie, I'm not sure I would have been able to keep from covering my eyes during parts of his "dinner party". I have a strong stomach for gore, but senseless torture much less so. Finding out what he was and how he was able to do the things he did just cemented my dislike for him in stone. For any of you who have read the Graceling Realm trilogy by Kristin Cashore, he reminded me of Leck. I hated Leck, too.

I would have to say that one of my favorite characters was Vinnie. Leader of the "gang" of Ohs, he seemed to be one of the most level headed in Varakov.While everyone around him was sucked in to the sickening debauchery and the violence of all that went on around him on a regular basis, he was still able to keep his wits about him. And he was still in his right mind to be bothered by much of what went on. He had a conscience.

All in all, not a bad story. I could have done with a LITTLE bit less description and a LITTLE bit more dialogue and action in the first half of the book, but I'd say it's definitely well done. And it's a story I'd recommend to any fantasy lover. Well, any fantasy lover probably over the age of 16 as there are some absolutely horrible scenes and lots of gore. Not sure younger fantasy fans would be good with that. It's also nice to read a new take on the werewolf. Don't get me wrong, I love love LOVE The Wolves of Mercy Falls series by Maggie Stiefvater, but I always love it when I get back to the root of the monster, ya know? When I get to read about them in a way they originally were, but with a new-ish twist. If that makes sense.

If it doesn't, you should still check out the book.

P.S. It also helped that for some reason when I was reading, the voice narrating the story for me in my head was Matt Smith. If you know who he is you get major points with me.


Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Review - Amanda Weds a Good Man by Naomi King

The Amish Community of Cedar Creek is celebrating a wedding! When Amanda Lambright, widowed with three daughters, marries Wyman Brubaker, a widower with five children, she envisions joining their two households into one big happy family. But it isn't quite that easy...

Amanda Lambright loves Wyman Brubaker, and after four years as a single mother, she is grateful for his support and for this new chance at happiness as his wife. She's confident that their children will get along just fine. But once Amanda's clan moves into Wyman's home, the tight quarters and Wyman's reluctance to make changes to accommodate Amanda cause friction. The older kids are squabbling. The little ones are frequently in tears. Tiny Alice Ann isn't speaking at all. Amanda and Wyman can't find any privacy. And Amanda wonders if she'll ever have a chance to pursue the pottery making that means so much to her.

Amanda believes that family lies at the center of any well-lived Amish life. Can she find the wisdom to guide the reluctant members of her new extended family toward the love that will bind them together?
Amanda Weds a Good Man is the third novel I've read by Naomi King (a.k.a. Charlotte Hubbard). And while this particular story goes on about families completely unfamiliar to me up to this point, there are some familiar faces that pop up every now and then which makes reading this feel like home. Do you know what I mean?

Amanda's husband has died. Wyman's wife has, unfortunately, passed as well. It seems that Amanda's family is doing what they can to move on while Wyman's is stuck in a sort of stasis. Wyman is suffering from survivor's guilt and doesn't even seem to realize it. But it's rubbing off on his children as well. When he weds Amanda and she and her children move in to his house it seems that there is little room for them there. The memory of his late wife takes up way too much room. That, and the chaos that seems to reign supreme in the household along with the outright hostility expressed toward Amanda and her children (and even Wyman) by the members of the community Wyman has brought them to, makes everyone absolutely miserable.

Wyman really has to search inside himself and see if what's happening in his house is what's meant to be happening. Sure, the Bishop has told him so, but is following the Bishop at the expense of his family's well-being really worth it? And is the Bishop even right in his instruction?

I can really relate to Amanda. I was married just a month ago and, while my children and I were familiar with the house we were moving in to after the wedding, it was still a lot to get used to. The memories of family members passed hangs in the air and, understandably, sometimes we are reluctant to move on but for the sake of sentimentality. No matter how much you love someone, and how much you want things to be perfect, there can (and will) still be issues at some point.

Poor Amanda. She moved away from the people she knew and loved in to an environment that was neither friendly nor welcoming. She tried. But I could literally feel her frustration and the tension between her and her new husband. She'd been so strong for such a long time and along with her nephew had been able to keep her family afloat. Wyman did not have to struggle as hard to provide for his family and I think, as a result, his children were not as close to him as Amanda's were to her.

He made me angry for much of the first half of the book. I felt bad for Amanda. I sympathized with her and could almost sense the dread building up in her heart at the thought that she'd be expected to submit to a man who didn't seem to have her best interests at heart, despite the fact that he did love her. Someone plants a bug in his ear, though, and gives him a lot to think about as far as the relationship between him and his new wife are concerned.

Now, the relationship between Abby and James... I adored them. The two of them were so completely head over heels for each other that I couldn't help but smile the entire time I read about them. James had such consideration for Abby and the way that she felt, the things that were important to her. And Abby was such an amazingly wonderful person to everyone she came in contact with. The two of them together were an absolutely fantastic pair.

Jerome, Amanda's nephew, was one of my favorites. He was the strong and (somewhat) silent type. He had Amanda's back and was definitely not going to sit idly by while he felt she was being slighted by her new family. He seemed like a happy go lucky guy, although I'm sure he's been through a lot in his life.

Last but not least, where would every great story be without a villain.

The Bishop of Clearwater and his nagging wife were definitely the bane of everyone's existence. They were hypocritical and rude and encouraged everyone to follow in their footsteps while claiming that those who didn't were placing other things at higher importance than their relationship with God, an attitude that had driven several families out of the district already. I could not STAND them and if they'd been real people and standing in front of me speaking to ME the way they spoke to Wyman and Amanda, I would probably have told them off. In the worst way. I honestly don't know how the Brubaker's managed to hold their tongues as well as they did.

The story was wonderful. I like books that make me FEEL things. And I could definitely feel for Amanda. All the hurt and anger and frustration... and on the flip side of the coin... love and adoration and wonderment. Fantastically written.

As with her other novels, I highly recommend this as a read to everyone. Not just those of you who enjoy Amish fiction, but anyone looking for a nice family/feel good read. Luckily, this is the first in the series. I can't wait to see more of what happens for the Brubaker clan.

Monday, December 2, 2013

Review - Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh

This is a book I wrote. Because I wrote it, I had to figure out what to put on the back cover to explain what it is. I tried to write a long, third-person summary that would imply how great the book is and also sound vaguely authoritative--like maybe someone who isn’t me wrote it--but I soon discovered that I’m not sneaky enough to pull it off convincingly. So I decided to just make a list of things that are in the book:

Pictures
Words
Stories about things that happened to me
Stories about things that happened to other people because of me
Eight billion dollars*
Stories about dogs
The secret to eternal happiness*

*These are lies. Perhaps I have underestimated my sneakiness!
I found Allie Brosh's blog, Hyperbole and a Half (book link HERE), over a year ago after she'd not written for quite some time. I went back through and read everything I could, though, because along with her funny drawings she writes incredibly well. I know some would look at her writing and compare it to a classic novel and disagree with me, but I've found I'm drawn to the books where I can imagine that's actually how the person speaks in real life.

She's also incredibly funny.

I loved the story of how she found Helper Dog and literally laughed until I cried looking at the illustrations of the first meeting between Helper Dog and Simple Dog. And the fact that she added actual screen shots at the end of her story with the goose just made the story itself that much more hilariously amazing.

I honestly don't know if there's been another book that's made me laugh that hard.

I finished the entire thing in one night which, considering it's made up mostly of simply (but creatively) drawn comics, wasn't hard. I needed to read it, too. I needed a pick me up. I'd been walking through the book store and I was kind of down that day, can't quite remember why, and as I was leaving I saw that book on the table in the center aisle. I grabbed it and walked right to the register with it. One of the best decisions I made that week.

There's really not much I can say in the way of a review. These are someone's personal life experiences, and how can you critique that? I enjoyed the way she told of her experiences. And I appreciate the fact that she could make me laugh. Also, that I could relate to her in some of her stories. Sometimes that's all I'm really looking for.

I'd recommend this for anyone looking for a funny story teller. There is some bad language so no one too young, but other than that, I don't think there'd be any reason you wouldn't love this book. Maybe it'll brighten your day the way it did mine.

Friday, November 29, 2013

First Chapter Reveal - Amanda Weds a Good Man by Naomi King


Amanda Weds a Good Man
One Big Happy Family: Book 1
By Naomi King
Chapter 1


Amanda Lambright paused outside the Cedar Creek Mercantile, clutching her basket of pottery samples and prayed that Sam would carry her handmade items in his store. She had also come to share some exciting news: she stood on the threshold of a brand new life in a brand new family, and the prospect thrilled her. But it frightened her, too.

When Amanda stepped inside, the bell tinkled above the door. As her eyes adjusted to the soft dimness of the store, she saw her teenage daughter Lizzie and the four-year-old twins making a beeline to the craft department while her mother-in-law Jemima ambled behind her cart in the grocery aisle. Several shoppers, English and Amish alike, lingered over their choices of cheese, locally-grown apples, and other household and hardware necessities, but she was in luck: the bearded, bespectacled man at the check-out counter didn’t have any customers right now. She approached him with a smile.

“And how are you on this fine September day, Sam?”

When Sam Lambright looked up from the order form he was filling out, his face lit up. “Amanda! How gut to see you. Things are going well at your farm, I hope?”

Amanda gripped the handle of her basket. Should she break her big news first? Or make her request? “The work never ends, that’s for sure. The last hay’s ready to cut, the garden’s gone to weeds, and Jerome’s training several new mules.” Jerome was her nephew by marriage, the boy she and her late husband Atlee had raised after his parents died in a fire.

“Your girls are growing up, too. I had to look twice to realize it was Lizzie, Cora, and Dora waving at me.”

“They change by the day, it seems. And, well . . . I’m making a few changes myself.”

Sam gazed at her in that patient, expectant way he had. He was Atlee’s cousin, and his expression, his manner, reminded her so much of Atlee that at times she’d not shopped here because she couldn’t deal with the resemblance. But that sadness is behind me now . . . and nobody will be happier than Sam, she reminded herself. “Wyman Brubaker has asked me to marry him. And I said jah.”

Sam’s smile lit the whole store. “That’s wonderful! Abby—” He gazed up toward the upper level, hailing his sister as she sat at her sewing machine by the railing. “Abby, you’ll want to come down and get the latest from Amanda. She’s getting hitched!”

“That’s so exciting,” Abby called out. “Don’t say another word until I get down there.”

Amanda noticed several folks in the store glancing her way, enjoying this exchange. It made her upcoming marriage seem even more real now that it had been announced so publically. She and Wyman had kept their courtship quiet, because they wanted to be very sure that a marriage blending two households and eight children was a wise decision.

“Months ago I suggested to Wyman that it was time he found another gut woman,” Sam said, “and I’m so glad he’s chosen you, Amanda. I can’t think of two finer folks with so much in common.”

“Well, we hope so. It’ll be . . . different, raisin eight kids instead of just my three girls,” she replied quietly. “But Wyman’s a gut man.”

“And with his grain elevator doing so well, it means you won’t have to worry about money anymore,” Sam replied quietly. “You haven’t let on—haven’t let me help you much—but even with Jerome’s income, it couldn’t have been easy to keep that farm afloat after Atlee passed.”

As Abby Lambright rushed down the wooden stairway to hug her, Amanda forgot about her four long years of scraping by. She felt lifted up by the love and happiness this maidel radiated. Rain or shine, Abby gave her best and brought that out in everyone around her, too.

“What a wonderful-gut thing, to know you’ve found another love,” Abby gushed. “And who’s the lucky man?”

“Wyman Brubaker.”

“You don’t say!” Abby replied. “I couldn’t have matched up a more perfect pair myself—and as I recall, his Vera and your Lizzie first met while both families were shopping here. And that started the ball rolling.”

“Jah, as matchmakers go they were pretty insistent,” Amanda replied with a chuckle.

“And when’s the big day?”

“We haven’t decided, but it’ll be sooner than I can possibly be ready,” Amanda admitted. “What with Lizzie still in school, I’ve hardly packed any boxes—not that I know where to stack them if the wedding’s at my house,” she added in a rush. “And with Jerome training a team of mules now, we can’t clear out the barn for the ceremony. And I can’t see me driving back and forth, cleaning Wyman’s house in Clearwater—”

“Or keeping it wedding-ready until the big day. His Vera’s a responsible girl, but looking after her three brothers and Alice Ann is all she can handle,” Abby remarked in a thoughtful tone. She looked at her older brother. “Sam, what would you say to having Amanda’s wedding at our house? What with preparing for Matt and Rosemary’s ceremony next week, and then for Phoebe and Owen’s that first Thursday of October—”

“Oh, no!” Amanda protested. “I didn’t mean to go on and on about—”

“That would be just fine.” Sam gazed steadily at Amanda. “We’re setting up the tables for the meals in mamm’s greenhouse—leaving them up between the two weddings, anyway. So if you pick a date in the first few weeks of October, it would be very easy to host your ceremony, Amanda. And I would feel like I’d finally given you some real help when you needed it.”

Amanda nearly dropped her basket of pottery. “My stars. That would solve a lot of my problems . . .”

“And with Wyman living in Clearwater and your house being on the far side of Bloomingdale, Cedar Creek would be a more central location for your guests,” Sam reasoned.

“And it’ll be gut practice for Sam, delivering another wedding sermon,” Abby added mischievously. “Right after he was ordained as our new preacher last spring, Rosemary asked him to preach and then Phoebe insisted on him, too. So he should be pretty gut at it by the time you and Wyman tie the knot!”

Sam flushed. “Jah, but if you want the preachers from your district to—”

“It would be an honor to have you and Vernon Gingerich officiate for us.” Amanda squeezed Sam’s arm, her excitement mounting. “Wyman will be so glad you’ve settled our dilemma, because if we choose one preacher and one bishop from our own districts, we’ll still be leaving out the other bishop and three preachers.”

“And you don’t want them all to speak! Six sermons would make for a very long day,” Abby added wryly.

As their laughter rose toward the high ceiling of the mercantile, Amanda relaxed. Wasn’t it just like these cousins to offer their home when she would never have asked another family to host her wedding? What a relief, to concentrate on moving her three daughters, Atlee’s mamm, and herself into Wyman’s home rather than also having to prepare for a couple hundred wedding guests.

Abby leaned closer to Amanda, watching Lizzie and the twins fingering bolts of fabric. “So how are your girls taking the news? And what of Jemima?” she asked quietly.

Amanda smiled. “Truth be told, it was Lizzie and Wyman’s Vera who got Wyman and me to the same places at the same time,” she confessed. “And bless him, Wyman said from the first that he had a room for Atlee’s mamm. It won’t be easy for her, living in a home other than her son’s. But we’ll all be together.”

“One big happy family!” Abby proclaimed as she hugged Amanda’s shoulders again.

“And what of Jerome?” Sam inquired. “He’s lived with you since he was a boy, but he’s what? Twenty-two now?”

“Twenty-four,” Amanda corrected. “And with him being so established with his mule breeding and training, I’ve asked him to stay there on the home place. It’s what Atlee would’ve wanted for his nephew.”

“A gut decision,” the storekeeper agreed. “One of these days he’ll be finding a wife, and a whole new generation of Lambrights can live there.”

Amanda nodded, feeling a flicker of sadness. Her Atlee had passed on before they knew she was carrying the twins . . . but cogitating over the other children they might have had together—or which ones might have taken over the Lambright farm—wasn’t a useful way to spend her time. A little gasp brought her out of her woolgathering.

“What’s this in your basket?” Abby asked as she reached for the handle. “My stars, these are such pretty colors for pie pans and cream pitchers and—” Her brown eyes widened. “Did you paint these, Amanda?”

Amanda’s cheeks prickled. “I make the pottery pieces on my wheel and then I glaze them, jah,” she said quietly. “I was hoping that—rather than packing away my finished pieces—you might want to sell them here.”

“These are pieces any woman could use,” Abby interrupted excitedly. She was carefully setting items from the basket on the counter so Sam could get a better look at them. “A pitcher . . . a deep-dish pie plate . . . oh, and look at this round piece painted like a sunflower!”

“That’s a disk you heat in the oven and then put in your basket to keep your bread warm,” Amanda said. “I sell a lot of those at the dry goods stores north of home. Seems English tourists like some little souvenir when they visit Plain communities.”

“I can see why,” Sam remarked. He was turning the pitcher this way and that in his large hands. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen kitchen pieces with such bold colors. And if you make them, Amanda, I’d be happy to take them on consignment. Folks hereabouts would snap these up.”

“You’ve got several pieces with you, I hope?” Abby asked.

“This is such a blessing,” Amanda replied quietly. “I’ve got three boxes of this stuff in my wagon, along with an inventory list. I figured that if you didn’t want it, I’d stash it all in Wyman’s basement until we get moved in.”

“Don’t go hiding these in the basement!” Abby insisted. “We’ll set up a big display down here, and I’ll arrange the rest of them up in the loft.”

Sam started for the door. “I’ll help you carry in your boxes, Amanda. You can decide which items might sell better over at the greenhouse and work that out with Mamm.”

“Jah, I will. Denki so much, you two. Let me show you what I’ve brought.” Amanda’s heart skipped happily as the bell above the door tinkled. This trip to Cedar Creek was going even better than she’d dreamed, and she was eager to set her wedding date with Wyman now that they had such a wonderful place to hold their ceremony.

As they stepped outside, however, an ominous crash rang out, followed by a yelp and another crash.

“Simon! Get your dog out of that wagon!”

Amanda’s face fell. Oh, but she recognized that authoritative voice. And there could be only one Simon with a pet who had stirred up such a ruckus . . . and only one wagon full of pottery with its end gate down.

As she rounded the corner of the store with Sam and Abby, the scene in the parking lot confirmed Amanda’s worst fears: the Brubaker family was gathered around her wagon, coaxing Simon’s German shepherd out of it while Wyman lifted his youngest son onto its bed. When the five-year-old boy grabbed his basketball from the only box of her pottery left standing, the picture became dismally clear.

“Oh, Amanda,” Abby murmured as the three of them hurried toward the Brubakers. “This doesn’t look so gut.”

Amanda’s stomach clenched. How many days’ worth of her work had been shattered after Wags had apparently followed Simon’s ball into her wagon?

“Gut afternoon to you, Wyman,” Sam said. “We just heard your exciting news, and we’re mighty happy you and Amanda are hitching up.”

Wyman set his youngest son on the ground and extended his hand to the storekeeper. “Jah, I finally found a gal who’ll put up with me and my raft of kids. But I can’t think she’s too happy with us right this minute.”

Amanda bit back her frustration as her future husband lowered one of her boxes to the ground so she could see inside it. The other boxes had been overturned, so some of her pie plates, vases, and other items lay in pieces on the wagon bed. She had considered padding her pottery more carefully, boxing the pieces better, but who could have guessed that Simon’s energetic, oversized puppy would follow a basketball into her wagon? A little sob escaped her.

“And now, Simon, do you see why you should always check the latch on the dog’s pen when we leave?” Wyman asked sternly. “Not only was it dangerous for Wags to come running up alongside our buggy, but now he’s broken Amanda’s pottery. What do you say to her, son?”

The little boy, clutching his basketball, became the picture of contrition. Simon’s brown eyes, usually filled with five-year-old mischief, were downcast as he stood beside his father. “I . . . didn’t mean to break your stuff,” he murmured. “I bounced my ball too high and Wags had to play, too. I’m real sorry.”

Chastising this winsome boy wouldn’t put her pottery together again, would it? “Things happen,” she replied with a sigh. “I was hoping to sell my ceramics here at the mercantile, but . . . well, maybe we can salvage some of it.”

“Tie Wags to the wagon, Simon, before he causes any more trouble,” Wyman murmured.

Abby had stepped up beside Amanda to carefully lift the contents of the box onto the tailgate while Wyman set the other two boxes upright. Amanda was vaguely aware that the rest of the Brubaker kids were nearby: his teenage sons, Pete and Eddie, went on inside the mercantile while seventeen-year-old Vera came up beside her, cradling little Alice Ann against her hip.

“See there, all is not lost,” Abby remarked as she set unbroken dishes to one side of the wagon bed. “Still enough for a display, Amanda—”

“And look at these colors!” Vera said as she fingered some of the broken pieces. “Dat told me you worked on pottery, Amanda, but I had no idea it was like this! So, do you paint ready-made pieces or do you make everything from scratch?”

Amanda smiled sadly as she held up two pitchers that no longer had their handles. “I form them on my pottery wheel, and when they’ve dried I glaze them and fire them in my kiln.”

“Would you mind if I take the broken stuff?”

Amanda considered this, surprised. Vera’s eyes were lit up with interest, as though she truly loved the pottery even though it was shattered. “I don’t know what you’d do with it,” she murmured, “but it’s not like I can sell repaired plates and pitchers, either.”

“I’m sorry this has happened, Amanda. I’ll pay you for what Simon broke,” Wyman offered as he squeezed her shoulder. “At least you won’t be needing the income after we marry, jah?”

Amanda sighed. “Denki, Wyman. That’s generous of you.”

As much as she had come to love Wyman Brubaker during these past months of their courtship, a red flag went up in Amanda’s mind. He—and most men—didn’t understand that her pottery was much more than a way to earn money. It had been her salvation after Atlee had lost a leg to gangrene and then lost his will to live. . . a way to focus her mind on cheerful designs and colors instead of becoming lost in the darkness of her grief after he died.

Wyman ran the only grain elevator in the area so he was able to provide quite well for a large family. Yet as she considered mixing her Lizzie and the twins—not to mention her opinionated mother-in-law—with the three rambunctious Brubaker boys, Vera, and toddler Alice Ann, Amanda wondered what she was getting herself into. Everyone seemed amiable enough now, but what if their good intentions went by the wayside once they were all together in one household?

Would they be one big happy family, as Abby had predicted? Or had she let herself in for more major changes than she could handle by agreeing to marry Wyman Brubaker?

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Book Spotlight - Amanda Weds a Good Man by Naomi King

The Amish community of Cedar Creek is celebrating a wedding! When Amanda Lambright, widowed with three daughters, marries Wyman Brubaker, a widower with five children, she envisions joining their two households into one big happy family. But it isn’t quite that easy.... Amanda Lambright loves Wyman Brubaker, and after four years as a single mother, she is grateful for his support and for this new chance at happiness as his wife. She’s confident that their children will get along just fine. But once Amanda’s clan moves into Wyman’s home, the tight quarters and Wyman’s reluctance to make changes to accommodate Amanda cause friction. The older kids are squabbling. The little ones are frequently in tears. Tiny Alice Ann isn’t speaking at all. Amanda and Wyman can’t find any privacy. And Amanda wonders if she’ll ever have a chance to pursue the pottery making that means so much to her. Amanda believes that family lies at the center of any well-lived Amish life. Can she find the wisdom to guide the reluctant members of her new extended family toward the love that will bind them together?
Author: Naomi King
Publisher: New American Library Trade
November 2013 ISBN: 978-0451417879
Buy it HERE on Amazon
Drawing upon her experiences in Jamesport, the largest Old Order Amish community west of the Mississippi, longtime Missourian Naomi King (a.k.a. Charlotte Hubbard) writes of simpler times and a faith-based lifestyle in her new Seasons of the Heart series. Like her heroine, Miriam Lantz, Charlotte considers it her personal mission to feed people—to share hearth and home. Faith and family, farming and food preservation are hallmarks of her lifestyle, and the foundation of her earlier Angels of Mercy series. She’s a deacon, a dedicated church musician and choir member, and when she’s not writing, she loves to try new recipes, crochet, and sew. Charlotte now lives in Minnesota with her husband and their border collie.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Guest Post - Paul Stutzman Author of The Wanderers

I’ll shut up and listen

Amish novels have become quite popular with the reading public. Most writers of those novels are women. Why would a man even attempt to enter this crowded field? Either he doesn’t know his limits or he chooses to believe there are no limits. Perhaps in this instance ignorance really is bliss.

The impetus for my sticking a toe in the water....or, rather, my foot … okay, I actually jumped into the literary pool with fear and trembling because I believed I had something to offer from my male perspective.

My perspective has been shaped by being born into an Amish home and raised in a strict Conservative environment where the man is in charge. As an adult, I spent 25 years working in food service with a workforce that was 90% female. Throughout the years, I observed and interacted with these workers and reached my own conclusions on the feminine world. I now believe women really are in charge and are just letting us men think we are in charge to protect our fragile egos.

Early in my career I was a fixer—that’s what we men do. If something is broken, we fix it. Initially, that was my approach to any issue or problem an employee encountered. I still believe that’s a god approach (within reason), but it can quickly get one—a man—in trouble. Many women just want to be heard. Is that so hard? After many frustrating encounters I finally realized the magic of not only hearing but also listening. And the really good part was that I didn't have to fix anything. Just listen. I could hardly believe it was really that easy.

Over the years, I came to respect and admire the many talented ladies I hired, and I saw them as equals in the workforce. In the Amish community, women, although deeply respected by their counterparts, are relegated to the back seat during most decision-making. In my book The Wanderers, I chose to give the ladies equal or perhaps top billing. I took many life lessons learned during my restaurant career and incorporated them into my stories.

I also wanted to write a book that wove together enough adventure to entice male readers and enough emotion to keep ladies involved. The jury is still out on whether I succeeded. I promise to be quiet and listen while you give me the verdict.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Review - The Wanderers by Paul Stutzman


An Amish Love Story About Hope and Finding Home

Everything in God’s nature, Johnny observed, did what it was created to do. Everything, that is, except the human race. Johnny was born into an Amish family, into a long line of farmers and good businessmen. He is expected to follow the traditions of family and church as he grows to adulthood. But even as a boy, he questions whether he can be satisfied with this lifestyle. He wants “more” — more education, more travel, more opportunity.

His restlessness leads him down a dangerous road where too much partying and drinking result in heartbreaking consequences. He’s adrift, and no one seems to be able to help him find his direction.

Then he meets spunky Annie, who seems pure and lovely and devoted to her God. Her past, though, holds sin and heartbreak. She was a worm, she explains, but God has transformed her into a butterfly. Johnny falls hopelessly in love; and eventually he, too, finds the power of God to transform lives. Settling down on the family farm, he forgets about the questions and the restlessness, thinking that he is happy and at home, at last.

But in a few short hours, tragedy changes his life forever, and he is again wondering… and wandering on a very long journey.

Entwined with Johnny and Annie’s story is the allegory of two Monarch butterflies, worms who have been transformed into amazing creatures specially chosen to carry out the miracle of the fourth generation. They, too, must undertake a long journey before they finally find home.
I love reading Amish fiction, in case you haven't noticed by my last few reviews. The Wanderers by Paul Stutzman was no exception. It was, however, incredibly different than the last two I'd had the pleasure of reading. While the novels by Charlotte Hubbard could stand alone, The Wanderers can not say the same.

The correlation between the Monarchs on the cover and the actual story line is introduced fairly early in the story. Surprisingly, though, it's brought back time and time again with such depth that it's actually a little sad at the end. Part of the story is even told from the point of view of the butterflies which was a fairly interesting twist.

Johnny is a wanderer. He doesn't know what he wants or where he wants to do it, he's just pretty certain that the Amish life isn't for him. At least not right away. He wants to be a cowboy and travel to the west with his friends. They have differing ideas, unfortunately, and he's soon left on his own fantasizing about traveling to places unknown. He's restless, and looking for pretty much anything to fill the void he thinks is in his heart.

Tragedy occurs when a large group of Amish teens get together at the quarry one night and the morning brings with it a fatality. It rocks poor Johnny down to his core. He's horrified and ashamed of himself and sad for what his new reputation must have done to his family. His family, however, never waivers in their love and affection for him, and quickly hatches a plan to hook him up with the new school teacher, Annie. But Annie is not without her own demons from the past. However, Johnny and his family quickly grow to love Annie and she returns in kind.

Johnny was kind of a complicated character for me. On the one hand, it was kind of irritating that here he was with a family that loved him and a profession that would set him up for life. On the other hand, he knew there was a world beyond his own that he'd never be able to see if he didn't do something considered drastic to the community he lived in. So I kind of had to admire him.

I absolutely adored Annie. She was so kind and at peace with herself. She never judged Johnny for his wrong doings and mistakes. And I love her explanation to him about the Caterpillars and the Monarch butterflies. She was an absolutely beautiful spirit and a wonderful addition to the story.

I loved that Johnny's family had such unconditional love for him. They accepted him and all of his faults and cared deeply about him. He was mischievous and a trouble maker but they understood him. Annie understood him. And they knew what he needed when he didn't even know himself.

The journey that he takes in this story is incredible. All of the people that he meets and their own stories that they tell to him definitely help to shape the person I feel he will ultimately become.

This book is not without it's downfalls.

I made the mistake of bringing it to read while I waited for my girls to be done with their Girl Scout meeting and ended up trying to make sure I didn't look like a big blubbering mess of ridiculousness. Absolutely heartbreaking in parts. Even in some places I wouldn't have even expected.

There are a lot of ups and downs and emotional bits all rolled in to The Wanderers. Luckily it is just the first in its series because it ended with a complete nail-biting cliffhanger and I NEED to know what happens next. I can only hope I won't have to wait too long to find out.

If you're a fan of Amish fiction, I'd recommend this story to you. If you like coming of age stories of any type, I'd recommend this for you. It's long, and a bit slow in some parts, but every bit of every chapter serves a purpose and you really shouldn't miss any of it. Like I said, I can't wait for the second installment.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Book Spotlight and First Chapter Reveal - The Wanderers by Paul Stutzman



Title: The Wanderers
Author: Paul Stutzman
Genre: Amish Fiction
Publisher: Carlisle Printing
Pages: 374
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0984644911
ISBN-13: 978-0984644919
An Amish Love Story About Hope and Finding Home

Everything in God’s nature, Johnny observed, did what it was created to do. Everything, that is, except the human race. Johnny was born into an Amish family, into a long line of farmers and good businessmen. He is expected to follow the traditions of family and church as he grows to adulthood. But even as a boy, he questions whether he can be satisfied with this lifestyle. He wants “more” — more education, more travel, more opportunity.

His restlessness leads him down a dangerous road where too much partying and drinking result in heartbreaking consequences. He’s adrift, and no one seems to be able to help him find his direction.

Then he meets spunky Annie, who seems pure and lovely and devoted to her God. Her past, though, holds sin and heartbreak. She was a worm, she explains, but God has transformed her into a butterfly. Johnny falls hopelessly in love; and eventually he, too, finds the power of God to transform lives. Settling down on the family farm, he forgets about the questions and the restlessness, thinking that he is happy and at home, at last.

But in a few short hours, tragedy changes his life forever, and he is again wondering… and wandering on a very long journey.

Entwined with Johnny and Annie’s story is the allegory of two Monarch butterflies, worms who have been transformed into amazing creatures specially chosen to carry out the miracle of the fourth generation. They, too, must undertake a long journey before they finally find home.
Buy your copy at AMAZON.




Chapter 1:

I was ten when I had my first taste of beer. A late start, to be sure, but I was never bothered much by peer pressure. My friends had all sampled the stuff two or three years before, but I had felt no desire or need. There was only one reason I drank on that hot August day. I was thirsty.

Finished with my morning chores, I started across the hayfield with an armful of boards ripped from the old washhouse. Previous generations had scrubbed and soaked and steamed in the one-room shack in front of our farmhouse; my parents, though, had upgraded to a new kerosene washer, and now the women worked in the coolness under the long front porch. An old kettle still hung above the brick fire pit, but the washhouse sagged like a tired old work horse.

My dad had assigned me the task of dismantling the washhouse. That was fine with me; I had plans for that scrap lumber. I wanted to enlarge the deer stand at the edge of the distant woods. The stand was my hideout, where I spent countless hours contemplating life. It was a haven for my wondering mind, and I called it my institution of higher learning.

Eight years of school at Milford Elementary, in the little village several miles east of our farm, were not enough for me. While most Amish children were happy to be finished with formal education, I wept when I could not attend the local high school.

The English students sometimes mocked us Amish as backwards farmers, but I enjoyed school, excelled in sports, and had the gift of gab. Although I was known as something of a "charmer," I never liked the word. It's true, I could talk myself into or out of anything. You do have to make the most of whatever talents God's given you.

The school of higher education that I did attend was built in a stately oak that stood sentinel at the edge of our woods. Two gnarled branches cradled my hideout, ten feet off the ground, overlooking the fields that my family had owned for generations. Years ago, my grandfather had secured several boards across the limbs and nailed short slabs up the oak's trunk, a ladder ascending to the platform. Over time, the trunk swallowed up most of the rungs, but edges still protruded far enough for deer hunters to clamber up and lie in wait for the quarry.

My first hunt with my dad and my brother was also my last. Finally, I was deemed old enough to go hunting with the men. I climbed the ladder and settled into waiting, tense with excitement. Very soon, a doe came through the woods, paused at the spring to drink, then walked slowly down the side of the ravine. One shot echoed through the quiet morning. We scampered down the ladder rungs and approached the deer, lying bleeding on the hillside. It struggled to its feet, took another tumble, and lay still.

My excitement vanished. I felt only sadness and pangs of remorse. The doe's brown eye was open, staring at me, asking, "Why? What did I do to deserve this?"

Dad had a knife in his hands; I knew what must come next. Backtracking, I was violently sick behind a bush. I was not meant to be a hunter, and no one would ever shoot another deer from that stand if I had any say at all.

I did have my say. Well, my mom did. Although Dad was the authority and power in our house, Mom often held the reins. With tears streaming down my face, I unloaded my sad description of the dying deer. "We can't shoot them anymore. We just can't."

Soon the NO HUNTING signs were posted, and the woods, deer stand, and all of God's nature on our 120 acres were mine.

Well, perhaps not quite everything fell under my protection. Every year, we butchered a pig, a horrible sacrifice for the betterment of our family. My dad and brother would select the offering. I always wondered how the selection was made, but I never asked. They'd grab the unlucky swine by the hind legs, lift it over the fence, and carry it away as it squealed in terror. As the surviving porkers looked on in great relief, I'd run to the house, up the stairs, and cover my head with my pillow. I'd hear the shot anyway.

While my family processed the departed, I'd venture to the pig pen. I knew each hog by distinguishing marks; and, in dread, I checked to see who was missing. Spotty had survived. Curly was still here. Snort made the cut. We would be eating Limpy. A wild dog or coyote had wriggled through the board fence one night and taken a bite out of Limpy. Our German shepherd, Biff, had heard the commotion and chased the intruder away before he could get a second bite. On the day of Limpy’s demise, I reminded myself that I must take caution; I must never injure myself in any way that might cause my own lameness.

*** My usual route from the washhouse to the deer stand followed the cow path leading from the barn to the pasture field and traveled twice a day by our herd. On this day, the hay field between the house and the woods had been mowed and I took advantage of this shorter route. I might have chosen the hay field even if the route were longer; as a ten-year-old, I drank in the sensory gifts of summer: the aroma of new mown hay, the sweetness of warm strawberries, the smell of an August rain on dusty ground.

"Johnny, go get us some Stroh's!" my older brother Jonas called. He and his friend Jacob were in the field, making hay. Jacob had been recruited to help my brother today because Dad was on a lumber buying trip, and the clouds warned there would be rain by tomorrow. I dropped my boards reluctantly and retraced my steps back to the farmhouse.

My great-grandparents had built this house over a spring, and the cool waters flowed through the basement, filling a concrete trough where my mom stored crocks of butter, fresh milk and cream, eggs, watermelon, and any kind of dish she was preparing for the next meal. Those amber bottles of Stroh's were chilling in a corner of the trough just inside the door. I grabbed two by the necks and rushed back outside, leaving a wet trail of spring water.

The Stroh’s stash belonged to Jonas. Dad was bishop of our Amish church, and I had never seen him drink beer. As a church leader, he was very much aware that anything misused, misread, or mistaken could affect his reputation and influence in the community.

Jonas, on the other hand, had no such reputation to protect. Sixteen, he had recently concluded his formal education and he knew exactly where his future lay. He was not yet a member of the church, but he would join in a few years, get married, and settle down right here in our valley. He had big plans to take over the sawmill that my dad ran as a part-time operation. I was the younger of Dad's sons; my father's hope was that I would be farming the Miller family land someday.

"You thirsty?" Jonas handed his half-empty bottle to me. I was thirsty. But that first taste was not good.

Still, that swallow in the hay field meant that now I was one of the men. I may have been a Miller boy, but now I was a Stroh's man.

Yes, I admit, many bottles of Stroh's beer would find their way to the deer stand in the years to come. For a while, it was not only my thinking stand, it was my drinking stand. More of a beer stand than a deer stand. Stroh's beer would get me into so much trouble; but it would also lead to meeting Annie. And then, for a short time, I had it all. I was an Amish man living the dream.

Until it was all taken from me.


About the Author:


Paul Stutzman was born in Holmes County, Ohio in an Amish family. His family left the Amish lifestyle soon after Paul was born. They joined a strict Conservative Mennonite Church where Paul was raised to fear God and obey all the rules the church demanded. Paul continued to live among and mingle with his Amish friends and relatives his entire life. Paul married a Mennonite girl and remained in the Amish community working and raising a family. After Paul lost his wife to cancer, he sensed a tug on his heart- the call to a challenge, the call to pursue a dream. With a mixture of dread and determination, Paul left his job, traveled to Georgia, and took his first steps on the 2,176 mile Appalachian Trail. What he learned during the next four and a half months changed his life-and can change yours too. After completing his trek Stutzman wrote Hiking Through—a book about this life changing journey.

In the summer of 2010 Stutzman again heeded the call for adventure and pedaled his bicycle 5,000 miles across America. He began his ride at the Northwest corner of Washington State and pedaled to Key West, Florida. On his journey across America he encounters people in all circumstances, from homelessness to rich abundance. The people he meets touch his life profoundly. Stutzman writes about these encounters in his book Biking Across America.

Recently Stutzman released his first novel entitled The Wanderers. The Wanderers is a story about Johnny, a young Amish boy growing up in a culture he is not sure he wants to embrace. A young Amish girl named Annie wins his heart and life is great for a time. Entwined with Johnny and Annie’s story is the allegory of two Monarch butterflies, worms who have been transformed into amazing creatures specially chosen to carry out the miracle of the fourth generation. They, too, must undertake a long journey before they finally find home.

In addition to writing, he speaks to groups about his hiking and biking experiences and the lessons learned during these adventures. Stutzman resides in Berlin, Ohio and can be contacted through his website at www.hikingthrough.com or www.paulstutzman.com.

Stutzman resides in Berlin, Ohio and can be contacted through his website at www.hikingthrough.com or www.paulstutzman.com.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Book Blast & Giveaway - Curse of the Holidays Volume One: Dead Show by Joshua Fuller

Donovan VonBreak, demon god, thinks he will destroy the world of light when he cheats his way into power. But something unexpected happens: Vampires and angels find that they have many characteristics in common, and they make peace. An angel and a vampire even fall in love, leading to the birth of Cloud, who is half angel, half vampire. This turn of events infuriates VonBreak, and for fifty years, he studies vampires and angels, trying to find out how he can destroy light and usher in a new era of darkness. By corrupting Cloud’s brother, he gets closer to his goal. And when he banishes Cloud to a new world, he can almost taste victory. Cloud must now fight his inner darkness and the chaos engulfing this new world if he has any hope of saving his own. Join him as he battles demons and fights for peace in the first volume of Curse of the Holidays.


Title: Curse of the Holidays Volume 1: Dead Snow
Author: Joshua Fuller
Publisher: iUniverse
Genre: Paranormal Suspense
Pages: 116
 Available at iUniverse


About the Author:
    Joshua C. Fuller is an accomplished artist who has always been fascinated by fantastic stories, including the works of J.R.R. Tolkein, J.K. Rowling and George Lucas. He hopes to one day create movies and video games.

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Friday, October 25, 2013

First Chapter Reveal - An Amish Country Christmas by Charlotte Hubbard


The Christmas Visitors
By
Naomi King

1
            “Easy, Clyde. Back up, fella.” Nate Kanagy stood aside as his Clydesdale came backwards out of the horse trailer, sensing Clyde was every bit as excited as he was on this fine December twenty-third. The horse whickered and shook his massive head, then waited patiently beside his brother’s bay gelding while Bram shut the trailer gates. Nate stepped up to pay the driver who had brought them here from Willow Ridge this morning. “Thanks again, Gregg. And a merry Christmas to you.”
            “Merry Christmas to you boys and your family, too,” Gregg replied as he started his van. “Enjoy you new sleigh and courting buggy!”
            “Jah, we intend to!” Nate’s brother, Bram, piped up from behind them. “If you can’t have fun drivin’ a new rig, what’s the point of gettin’ one?”
            The two of them waved as Gregg headed back onto the county blacktop, hauling their empty trailer behind him. Then Nate gazed around the little town of Cedar Creek, Missouri. From where they stood in the parking lot of Graber’s Custom Carriages, the countryside rolled gently beneath a fresh blanket of snow, dotted with tall white homes, silohs, and barns. Deep green cedar trees followed the creek at the bottom of the hill, where cardinals called to each other. Across the snow-packed blacktop, Treva’s Greenhouse sported a sign that said CLOSED FOR CHRISTMAS, but beside it the Cedar Creek Mercantile bustled with buggies and cars alike. “We’ll get our fill of Aunt Beulah Mae’s homemade goodies tonight—”
            “Along with a hefty helping of her nosy questions and Uncle Abe’s looooong stories,” Bram added.
            “—but a special occasion like this calls for some serious junk food.”
            “Jah, let’s hit the merc.” Bram hitched their two horses to the railing on the side of the carriage shop. “No tellin’ what else we might find there. Looks to be a place that stocks everything under the sun, including stuff you never knew you needed.”
            To Nate, Cedar Creek seemed a lot like most Plain communities, in that the businesses were scattered along the roadside, on the farms where their owners lived. Back home in Willow Ridge they didn’t have a carriage maker, so this trip was indeed a treat: their parents had given them their choice of new vehicles on the understanding that he and his younger brother wouldn’t go running the roads in cars like a lot of Amish fellows did during their rumspringa years. At eighteen, Bram had chosen a buggy so he’d be ready for that day when a special girl compelled him to court and marry her.
            Nate, however, had a hankering for a sleigh. Nothing else felt so grand on a winter’s day as skimming across the snow-covered hills—and what could be more glorious than such a ride on a moonlit night? After they ate their snack, he couldn’t wait to hitch Clyde to his new rig and take off. He’d been engaged to a special girl last Christmas, only to learn she’d been seeing other fellows, so at twenty, Nate wasn’t out to impress anybody. These days, he was pleasing himself.
            When they entered the mercantile, he felt right at home. The scent of bulk grass seed, stored in wooden bins along the wall, filled the warm air and a wide wooden staircase led to an open second level where they sold work boots and clothing. A banner on the railing said ABBY’S STITCH IN TIME, and a young woman—Abby, most likely—smiled down at him from her treadle sewing machine. Mesh bags of oranges and locally grown apples and potatoes were displayed by the check-out counter. Nate exchanged greetings with the gray-bearded fellow who was ringing up an order and then followed Bram toward the aisles of bulk snacks that had been bagged and labeled here in the store.
            “Here’s those chocolate coconut haystacks you like,” Bram said, “not to mention trail mix and sweet potato chips and saltwater taffy and—”
            But Nate wasn’t listening. Down the aisle a ways, where they sold livestock supplies, a girl was hefting a mineral block into her pull cart. Her auburn hair glimmered beneath her white kapp, and as she straightened to her full height, she caught his gaze. Held it for a few moments. Then she leaned down again.
            It seemed only polite to see if she needed help.
As Nate headed her way, he wasn’t surprised to hear the tattoo of Bram’s boots on the plank floor behind him. “How about if I get that for you?” he asked as the redhead wrapped her arms around a fifty-pound sack of horse feed.
Jah, how many of those do you need?” Bram chimed in. “No sense in strainin’ yourself when we toss this stuff around all the time.”
Nate had always heard that blue eyes could twinkle, but now he was seeing it for himself. The young woman looked from him to his brother as though she hid a secret behind her smile. “Not from around here, are you?”
He blinked. Had he sprouted a second head? Did he sound so very different from the Amish fellows here in Cedar Creek? Or was it Bram’s lovestruck-puppy grin that made her say that? “Just got here from Willow Ridge, truth be told,” he replied. “I’m fetching the sleigh James Graber’s built for me—”
“And he’s got a courtin’ buggy with my name on it,” his younger brother added.
“Well, you couldn’t ask for a better rig, then,” she remarked. “James has even built special carriages for Disney World and the likes of Miss America, you see.”
Nate didn’t know a thing about Miss America, but she surely couldn’t hold a candle to this girl. Her ivory skin glowed, with just a few freckles on the bridge of her nose—tiny ones, that he had to lean closer to see. And then there was the way her eyes widened as she gazed back at him. He caught himself and grabbed the bag of feed she’d been lifting. “So how many of these bags do you need?”
“Four, please. And what’d you say your name was?”
Bram laughed as he, too, hefted a sack of the oats mixture. “Last name’s Kanagy. I’m Bram—the cute one,” he teased, “and Mr. Shy here is my brother Nate. He got burnt by a girl he was engaged to, so now he mostly keeps to his horses.”
Nate closed his eyes against a wave of irritation as he placed a third sack of the rations in her wooden cart. “If you believe everything my kid brother says, well—but you look to be way ahead of him. And your name would be—?”
The redhead looked him over yet again. “Martha. Coblentz.” She pointed to the shelf where the mineral blocks were. “A couple more of those and I’ve got to get on home. Denki ever so much for your help, fellas. Have a gut time with your new rigs.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to invite her for a sleigh ride, yet Nate hesitated. After all, they were only spending the night with their aunt and uncle before returning to Willow Ridge tomorrow, in time to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with their family. As though she suddenly needed to be someplace else, Martha strode down the aisle toward the check-out counter, pulling her sturdy wagon behind her.
“Well, you blew that one,” Bram muttered.
“And you, little brother, have a mouth bigger than your brain,” Nate replied under his breath. “We’ll have to work on that.”


 “Jah, Mary?” Martha murmured into her cell phone. She looked behind her as she walked down the road, with the wind whipping at her black coat and bonnet. “You’ve got to come see these two fellas who’re heading over to James’s carriage shop! I just now met them in the mercantile and, well—you can gawk at the both of them all you want, but I’ve already decided to go for Nate.”
“Puh! What makes you think you get first pick?” her twin retorted.
“First come, first served. Be there or be square,” Martha quipped. She loved the way her breath came out in a frosty vapor on this brisk December morning. Truth be told, she was enjoying this day a lot more now that she’d met the two Kanagy boys in the mercantile. “Better get a move on, though, or you might miss them. They’re here to fetch a sleigh and a courting buggy James built for them, and they might head right on home afterwards—unless we give them a gut reason to hang around, you know.”
“Well, I can’t get there any too fast if I’m on the phone with you now, can I?” Click.
Martha tucked her cell into her coat pocket and continued down the snow-covered road as fast as her heavy pull cart would allow. What with her dat and her older brother Owen out working on a house today, the barn chores fell to her, as they often did. It was just as well, because she preferred working outdoors while Mary was happier helping their mamm get ready for today’s meals as well as Christmas dinner. Martha was perfectly capable of placing those heavy sacks of feeds in their covered bins and then setting out the new mineral blocks for the horses, but wasn’t it a fine thing that two gut-looking fellows had come to help her in the mercantile? The boys around Cedar Creek seemed to think she was part of the landscape . . . always there, so mostly invisible. Apparently not worth a second look.
By the time Martha was within sight of the house, here came Mary up the road. Oh, but she had a glint of mischief in her eyes, too! “So what’s in that sack, Sister?”
Mary laughed. “That’s my beeswax, ain’t so?”
“Now don’t go thinking you can have those fellas all to yourself,” Martha protested, playfully blocking her sister’s path. “I was nice enough to tell you about them—”
“And Mamm’s already got her suspicions about me taking out of the house so sudden-like, too. This better be worth my time, Sister!” Mary declared. “After all, it was your dinner—your favorite oatmeal bread and goodies I was baking when you called.”
“Puh! If you don’t think the walk’s worth your while, then I’ll just have some fun with those fellas myself. Not a problem!”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

Martha hurried on down the snowy lane to the barn with her cart, which was harder to pull on the clumpy gravel. No doubt her sister would know a fine opportunity when she saw one, so it was best to put these supplies away and feed the animals in short order. The Kanagy boys didn’t know it yet, but as thanks for helping her they were about to receive a Christmas gift like they hadn’t counted on.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Guest Post - Charlotte Hubbard Author of An Amish Country Christmas

HIDDEN TREASURE COOKIES

Because I feature a recipe section in each of my Seasons of the Heart books, lots of people ask me questions about Amish cooking and recipes. I’m going to let you in on a little secret! I love to cook! And while I have perused many Amish cookbooks to feature “authentic” recipes in my stories, you know what? Amish recipes aren’t any different from the dishes I’ve been cooking for most of my life! Amish cooks don’t always use as many seasonings as I prefer, but otherwise—right down to using convenience foods like cake mixes and Cool Whip—I’ve noticed little difference between traditional Amish fare and mine.

So, because AN AMISH COUNTRY CHRISTMAS features many of my longtime favorite Christmas cookie recipes, I’ve decided to share one here, along with a little insight into why I love it. For more than 20 years I’ve baked cookies to send to family, friends, my editors—and I donated 25 dozen for my church’s Christmas Eve service, along with several more dozen for church dinners. I was baking about 150 dozen and cramming them into my deep freeze. That’s a lot of cookies!

Now that we’ve moved to Minnesota and my cookie demands have diminished, I still bake about 75 dozen. I’ve included only tried-and-true recipes in my Christmas anthology, and this one for Hidden Treasure Cookies is a perennial favorite. I never tire of biting into one of these frosted cookies to discover the hidden chocolate mintiness inside! I triple the ingredients to make about 8 dozen, so I don’t run short. If you tint the frosting bright pink, yellow, or green before pressing them into jimmies or sanding sugar, they’ll really stand out on a cookie tray. Wrapping the dough carefully around the Andes mint takes some patience, but I think you’ll find it’s worth your effort!


Hidden Treasure Cookies

1/2 C. sugar
1/4 C. packed brown sugar
1/4 C. shortening (Crisco, for instance)
1/4 C. butter or margarine, softened
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 egg
1 2/3 C. flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
About 2 1/2 doz. Andes mints, unwrapped

Preheat oven to 350º. Mix the sugars, shortening, butter, vanilla and egg in large bowl. Add the flour and soda. Shape a tablespoon of dough around each mint, covering the corners and pressing together any cracks in the dough (be patient! It’s worth it!) Place the cookies about 2” apart on baking sheets covered with parchment paper. Bake 8-9 minutes or until barely golden brown. Cool on wire rack.

Frosting: 1 C. powdered sugar, 1 T. plus 1 or 2 tsp. milk, 1/4 tsp. vanilla or almond extract, plus food color, if you want. (You can also use the buttercream recipe included on my website, below.) Frost the centers of the cookies and press into jimmies, sanding sugar, etc. to decorate them. 1 batch makes about 2 dozen.


For the buttercream recipe and the entire collection of yumminess, go to www.CharlotteHubbard.com! And have your most wonderful Christmas ever!

Drawing upon her experiences in Jamesport, the largest Old Order Amish community west of the Mississippi, longtime Missourian Charlotte Hubbard (a.k.a. Naomi King) writes of simpler times and a faith-based lifestyle in her new Seasons of the Heart series. Like her heroine, Miriam Lantz, Charlotte considers it her personal mission to feed people—to share hearth and home. Faith and family, farming and food preservation are hallmarks of her lifestyle, and the foundation of her earlier Angels of Mercy series. She’s a deacon, a dedicated church musician and choir member, and when she’s not writing, she loves to try new recipes, crochet, and sew. Charlotte now lives in Minnesota with her husband and their border collie.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Review - An Amish Country Christmas by Charlotte Hubbard

The Christmas Visitors is devoted to brothers Bram and Nate Kanagy and the identical twin sisters they fall in love with, Martha and Mary Coblentz. As the brothers woo the sisters, an out-of-towner threatens to dash their hopes. In Kissing the Bishop, Willow Ridge sisters Jerusalem and Nazareth Hooley are snowed in at Tom Hostetler's place with Vernon Gingerich from Cedar Creek. After Tom receives shocking news about his estranged wife, will that open the door for two more couples to find their happy endings? The devoted couples from the first tale also make a cameo in the second. Mouthwatering recipes complete this sweet collection.
An Amish Country Christmas is the second book by Charlotte Hubbard that I've read. I was a little nervous to pick it up because I LOVED the last one so much I was worried I wouldn't be as invested in the characters as I'd been before.

The worry was unfounded.

I loved Martha and Mary Coblentz. And I have to admit, I think I got them mixed up just as much as Nate and Bram did. They were mischievous and considered trouble makers by the community they lived in, but that didn't stop Bram and Nate from trying to win their hearts.

It was also wonderful to get to know Jerusalem and Nazareth a little bit better. In Winter of Wishes they'd just kind of been names on the sideline to me. Popping up every once in a while, but not peaking my interest at all. They were just kind of there. Finding out more about Preacher Tom was fun too. And meeting the Bishop from Martha and Mary's own town (I love how all the stories are intertwined even if the story lines are separate!). I was definitely rooting for all of them in this story.

There were definitely some hitches in the plans for the pairs in each of the two stories in this book. It was amazing how patient they all were when obstacles just kept jumping up in their paths. When they were met with resistance they didn't throw their hands up in the air, they took a deep breath and found another way around. I personally think that's fantastic and nice to read.

An Amish Country Christmas is a wonderful Christmas story. Well, stories. They are uplifting and refreshing and fun to read. Another great point for this book as well as the other is that they can be read as stand-alones. I generally don't like to read books in a series unless I've read all the previous books. Not the case with this or with Winter of Wishes. Yes, I recognized names I'd seen in the other story, but the stories themselves didn't seem to rely on the books before them. I wasn't lost and frustrated like I normally would be reading book three in a series I'd never seen before.

I definitely recommend this as a read to anyone. Whether you're looking for something to put you in a holiday mood or you're interested in learning more about the Amish... or you just want to hurry through and get to the delicious recipes at the end of the book (I know that's another plus for me!). They are wonderful to read and will leave you with a smile on your face when you're finished. An absolute must read!

Monday, October 21, 2013

Book Blast & Giveaway - Run with the Wolves Volume One: The Pack by T c Tombs


It is the fifteenth century, and three kingdoms are caught up in the dire conflicts of their time. As the possibility of a peaceful resolution provides hope that a decade-long war will finally end, no one realizes that dark forces are waiting to invoke chaos as a full moon rises.
On a farm nestled beneath the Euralene Mountains along the western border of Medinia, young Willie works for the Smythes as a serf. One moonlit evening when the Smythes are gone to a neighbouring village, Willie hears the terrified cries of animals in the pastures. When he goes to investigate, he discovers that this wolf pack attack is like no other. Badly injured during the raid, he survives—but now he is afflicted by the full-moon madness that will soon transform him into one of the wolf creatures he dreads. With his life seemingly warped forever, Willie must face the prospect of a lifelong descent into horror.
In a time of witchcraft, superstitious folk lore, and fearsome creatures roaming the night, Willie struggles with an uncertain destiny and must seek help from the one man he holds most responsible for the dark fate that awaits him during the next full moon cycle.

“Beware of the full moon. This one is for all of the werewolf lovers!”
—Top Book Reviewers

A well-written and addictive first novel.
—Blue Ink Review

A well-developed, tightly plotted fantasy; readers will want installments two and three.
—Kirkus Reviews
Purchase Your Copy:
iUniverse
Title: Run With the Wolves
Author: T c Tombs
Publisher: iUniverse
Genre: Paranormal Fantasy
Pages: 410
Language: English
ISBN-13: 978-1-46201-092-9
About the Author:
  T c TOMBS earned degrees from Trent University and Wilfrid Laurier University in Canada. Like many Canadians, he loves hockey and golf, and he has a passion for medieval history, folk lore, literature, film, and music. Terry and his wife, Sandra, live in the Greater Toronto Area in Ontario, Canada, where they have raised five daughters.

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