Christina Berry: Posting with Purpose

Novel Rocket: The Small Press Option: Interview with Christina Tarabochia, Co-Founder of Ashberry Lane Press

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Thu, 20 Nov 2014 17:53:00 +0000

Novel Rocket: The Small Press Option: Interview with Christina Tarabochia, Co-Founder of Ashberry Lane Press

When a Flower is NOT Just a Flower

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Thu, 09 Jan 2014 21:41:00 +0000

Yesterday, after the weekly grocery shopping marathon, I found out uncomfortable financial news. A certain part of our monthly funds would be not coming in for all of January, and only a partial amount would come in February. It wasn't due to us being irresponsible with money--just one of those things with funds making their way through a very slow system in a very strange way. It wasn't a shocker, as we knew it was coming, but the form surprised us as we thought the financial hit would be spread over the next year.

Considering we have just paid for Christmas and a child's birthday, the news of the loss left me a little breathless.

I called my husband, who so often functions as God's breath in my life.

Here's the deal:
1) I started a new business last year
2) All profits are being reinvested to stimulate growth
3) My husband and I also set a limit on our savings account--when it dips below a certain number, the plan is for me to go get a "real" job
4) We have five kids and crazy schedules and running this household is already a full-time job
5) We really value having a stay-at-home parent and would want that no matter how many kids we have

If you stir all those facts up together, you get a woman who loves her family and wants to be with them, yet who wants to add to the family's finances and knows a whole lot of change and stress will be coming if she works outside the home.

Boom. This financial hit will make our savings dive below that set limit.

My husband answers the phone. He listens. He advises how to move money around to Bandaid the hit. He says he loves me. We hang up.

I come home after taking a daughter to dance practice and find flowers on the table.

And a note.

You are the flower that makes our family so bright and full of love! I love all you do for all of us!

He could have said, "Time to brush up your resume."

Or, "I'm sorry, but you have to find some way to make more money."

Or, "You'll need to cut back on your business and do something else."

Instead, he honored me in front of the children. He cherished. He affirmed. He built me up. He spoke of my value. He was God's breath to me.

Are You a Good Fit for a Fitbit?

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Sat, 21 Dec 2013 06:52:00 +0000

I have found the best Christmas present out there. It's reasonably priced, versatile, durable, easy to use, and super cool ...

The Fitbit.

And it finally solved the mystery of what those little pockets inside the pockets on jeans are for.

Fitbit clipped in tiny jean pocket

Yes, it may be too late for this Christmas to GIVE as a gift, but you can use your Christmas money to BUY one for yourself. This little gadget tracks ... read the rest of this post here!

Sabbath: Commandment or More of a Suggestion?

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Mon, 04 Nov 2013 18:27:00 +0000

When was the last time you took a Sabbath rest? For me, it had been months.

Until yesterday.

The idea of taking a day off work has come up more and more often around me. First, from my mother who related her pastor's latest sermon on it, then from well-known author Melanie Dobson. When we had lunch together last week, she mentioned taking a full day off on Sundays to spend time with her family. Though that means the family works hard on Saturday running errands and such, they get rewarded on Sunday with nothing to do but relax after church. She doesn't even check e-mail.

Usually when the same idea or theme keeps popping up in different arenas of my life, it means that God is trying to tell me something. Did I need a rest? Was I really working on the Sabbath? After all, I love every minute of my job, so isn't that just having fun? And could I afford to take a WHOLE day away from the publishing business, whose list of to-dos is the longest I've ever had in my life?

Read the rest here. :)

A Beloved Author Gone--Her Books Live On!

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Mon, 09 Sep 2013 05:18:00 +0000

Ashberry Lane announces the bittersweet release of Broken Wings, the first book in the Thistle Series. Only a short time ago, we offered a contract to the amazing Dianne Price for her six-book WWII romance. Knowing she had terminal cancer, we did everything within our power to get the first book out while she was still alive.

However, she passed on to Glory one week shy of the first release. How blessed we all are that her legacy lives on in these stories. Please read Broken Wings and fall in love with Rob and Maggie and the isle of Innisbraw. (Book Two, Wing and a Prayer, releases in October!)

E-versions are available at:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
and in all other e-formats at Smashwords
The print book will release soon--check our Product Page to place your order!

The Book's Dedication

Foremost, to the glory of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. And for my husband and best friend, True, who always wore the “Colonel’s cap” in our family, but only with calm Christian dedication, love, and compassion. See you in Heaven, my luve!

In Loving Memory

Dianne was granted her wish and she joined her beloved Savior and her husband in Heaven. She is probably dancing a Scots reel even as you read this.

About the Book

He lives to fly—until a jagged piece of flack changes his life forever.

A tragic childhood has turned American Air Forces Colonel Rob Savage into an outwardly indifferent loner who is afraid to give his heart to anyone. RAF nurse Maggie McGrath has always dreamed of falling in love and settling down in a thatched cottage to raise a croftful of bairns, but the war has taken her far from Innisbraw, her tiny Scots island home.

Hitler’s bloody quest to conquer Europe seems far away when Rob and Maggie are sent to an infirmary on Innisbraw to begin his rehabilitation from disabling injuries. Yet they find themselves caught in a battle between Rob’s past, God’s plan, and the evil some islanders harbor in their souls. Which will triumph?

Meet the Author

Dianne fell in love with writing at the age of five. Because her father was a barnstorming pilot, she was bitten early by the “flying bug” as well. She attended the University of California, Santa Barbara and met and married the man God had prepared for her—an aeronautical engineer. After their five children were in school, she burned the midnight oil and wrote three novels, all published by Zebra Press. When her husband died only three years after he retired, she felt drawn to visit the Outer Hebrides Isles of Scotland, where her husband’s clan (MacDonalds) and her own clan (Galbraiths) originated. Many yearly trips, gallons of tea, too little sleep, and a burst of insight birthed her Thistle Series.

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: Dianne, born August 1933, lived joyfully despite dealing with terminal cancer and died in August 2013, a mere week before the release date for the first book of this series, Broken Wings. Everyone involved with the production of this book and the next five has been blessed beyond measure to have known Dianne and be a part of giving readers a chance to meet Rob and Maggie and visit the beautiful, fictional isle of Innisbraw.

Leave a message for her family and sign up to hear the latest about her books at Dianne's publishing page or "Like" her Facebook page. Also, sign up for the Ashberry Lane newsletter to always know the latest about Dianne's releases.

Sample Chapters

PROLOGUE

Isle of Innisbraw, Outer Hebrides, Scotland

August, 1938

Stay! Don’t go! Maggie McGrath struggled to ignore the words screaming in her mind. She tucked a tissue-wrapped sprig of heather into a fold in her battered traveling bag. Too dry for the fragrance to linger, but she’d put it in a drawer. When the longing for home shredded her heart, she’d hold the fragile, purple buds close to her nose and imagine the sweet scent perfuming the air every summer.

Her fingers trembled as she fastened the bag and looked around the wee bedroom she’d shared with her younger brother, Calum, for over half of her life. His box-bed unmade, sheets and bed plaid in a muddle. A ragged sweater and pair of soiled trousers crumpled on the floor. Tears burned her eyes. Typical of a nine-year-old lad who lived for the day he would be old enough to crew a fishing trawler. Och, she would miss him so terribly.

Heedless to those words still torturing her mind, she pulled the sides of her waist-length black hair into a celluloid clip at the top of her head and dragged her bag into the cramped room that served as the cottage’s living quarters and kitchen.

Her father stood at the small, deep-set window above the sink, his face toward the morning sun colouring the cloudless blue sky with a soft blush of orange.

The bump of her bag over the rough stone-flagged floor seemed to rouse him. He placed his cup of tea on the scarred table and walked toward her, arms outstretched. “Ready are you to be off then, lass?” He enveloped her in a hug, the tweed of his jacket scratchy, yet so familiar, against her cheek.

The soft cadence of the Scots he spoke threatened to crack her resolve. She’d hear only English in Edinburgh. I cannot stay. I have to go. A sigh. “Aye, as ready as can be.”

“I know ’tis hard.” He stepped back and wiped a tear from her cheek. “But in a bit over twa months I’ll join you in Edinburgh.”

She wanted him to beg her to stay, to refuse her opportunity to study at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary’s Nursing School. But why would he? It was her dream, the culmination of everything she had studied for, including four years at a boarding academy on the Isle of Harris where she had learned to speak English as fluently as her father. Hard years, those. Painful raps on her knuckles when she spoke Scots, followed by humiliating mockery from the English-speaking students.

His warm hand rested on her shoulder. “On you come, lass. I’ve a pottle of strong tea waiting.” He poured tea into her mother’s treasured china cup. The burden in her heart lifted a wee bit. It seemed only fitting she embark on her journey into womanhood after drinking from her mother’s legacy. If Elizabeth McGrath had survived the birth of her laddie, Calum, she would have been proud of her daughter.

Maggie added heather honey and milk to her tea and stood in front of the glowing peat fire, shivering from an inner chill no flame could warm. It was already gone 0530. In less than half an hour she would be saying “guid-by” to all she held dear. And how would Calum fare? “Are you certain Calum will be all right staying with Morag and Alec when you leave?”

“Och, the lad’s spent most of every winter with the MacDonalds since you started academy.” Her father settled into his rocker with a grunt of satisfaction. “And he’ll have a bed to himself now, what with their Graham going off to school.”

A few strands of grey invaded his dark brown hair and short beard. When had that happened? It seemed only yesterday he’d rocked her in his lap and sung silly ditties in Scots or the Gaelic to soothe away her tears from a skinned knee or bad dream. That had all changed ever-so-gradually over the years. There was no question he loved her and Calum. But as head of Orthopaedics at the Royal Infirmary, he now spent most of his time in Edinburgh. Only one short three-month visit beginning in August and a weekly radio call the rest of the year to fill the aching void in their hearts.

Her heart cried out to recapture those carefree childhood days when her life revolved around family and friends, this wee stone cottage with its thatched roof, and her beloved green island. But she would be eighteen in a few months—old enough to fall in love, marry, and have her own bairns to rock.

And old enough to voice the one subject she’d never dared broach aloud. “Are you never coming home to open your infirmary permanently?” Maggie choked out the words. “I know what you do is important, but Calum needs a faither, no’ just fishermen who have their own lads.”

He stroked his beard, avoiding her gaze. Was he considering an excuse—perhaps something familiar, that he told himself every day to assuage his guilt?

She shouldn’t allow such words to ruin her last moments at home. Leaving her untasted tea on the table, she dashed to the door, pulling it open with a jerk. Even the pervasive scent of the heather covering the towering slopes of Ben Innis and tumbling in purple splashes down braes and over hillocks brought no solace as she raced to the low, dry-stone wall separating their croft from the path which ran across the high, flat top of Innis Fell.

Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring the harbour below and the Minch stretching to the horizon, its waves capped with white horses whipped to a gallop by the brisk morning breeze. What if the rumors of an imminent war with Germany came true? Everyone on the island was talking about Hitler’s invasion of Austria. Would he be satisfied to stop there or would he want more and more until all of Europe erupted into flames the way it had in the last Great War? Calum was too young to serve, but what about Graham MacDonald, Mark Ferguson, and the other lads on Innisbraw? Their ruddy-cheeked, innocent faces swam before her eyes. How many would die? How many would never come home to take up sheep or cow crofting or fishing with their fathers?

Her father came behind her and his strong arms pulled her against his chest. He rocked her back and forth for a moment before speaking. “I canna leave my work yet, Maggie. I’m on the brink of perfecting a new technique for repairing compound fractures. Mebbe when you’ve finished your training we’ll come back together. I’ll need a nurse at our infirmary, and in the meantime, Elspeth and Hugh have promised to write often.” He squeezed her shoulders before his steps faded away on the scudding breeze.

Maggie bit her lip to keep from weeping aloud. She couldn’t bear to hear the names of her two dearest friends when she wouldn’t see them for at least two years. Elspeth NicAllister had been her surrogate mother since Calum’s birth. Hugh MacEwan, the island’s minister and other anchor in her life, had never been too busy to offer words of encouragement or scriptures to give her guidance.

Och, Heavenly Faither, please help me be strong, for You planted the need to help others in my heart. Help me remember the honey-sweet scent of the heather, the sound of the sea sooking on the shore, the tumbling burns and shaded glens, even the plomping rain and skailing winds of winter. But most of all, give me the faith that I’ll come home to Innisbraw someday.

CHAPTER 1

Edenoaks Air Base, England

Early May, 1942

“You gotta have a death wish.”

Colonel Rob Savage steeled himself against the pleading eyes of Major Dennis Anderson, his second-in-command. “The mission’s set. It’s a go whether you approve or not.” Rob untangled his long legs from the barstool, waved at the fug of cigarette smoke clouding the teeming officer’s club, and shrugged into his A-2 bomber jacket. “I’m going to catch some shut-eye. Wheels-up at 0400.”

Den snagged his sleeve. “Let me fly cover for you. A single-plane strike over Metz is suicide.”

Arguments flew through Rob’s mind, each as hollow as his bones. Suicide? No way. Pushing the odds against surviving the war? Yeah, he’d give Den that, but he’d never dodged his commitment, no matter the risk. Every bomb dropped on German-occupied territory brought them closer to victory. He shot Den a thumbs-up. “I’m counting on you to lead the group to that alternate target tomorrow.”

Den returned the good-luck gesture. “Somebody needs to watch your back. At least I tried.”

Rob grunted. Knowing Den, he hadn’t given up. He’d be at the Liberty Belle’s hardstand in the morning, trying to talk his way into flying right seat. “See you at Interrogation tomorrow. That cot’s calling my name.”

A grin split Den’s flushed face. He leaned closer, Old Spice shaving lotion marking his territory like a feral tomcat on the prowl. “Who needs cot-time when there are enough nurses here to make a man drool?” He smacked his lips and exchanged winks with a nurse carrying two beers away from the bar. “Or are you going to spend the rest of your life married to an airplane?”

Not again. When would Den stop trying to set him up with a date? Sure, he wanted a family to replace the one he’d lost so long ago. But a world torn apart by war had a nasty way of putting the kibosh on most dreams, and his awkward attempts at social conversation were harder work than planning strikes and flying lead.

He reached for his beer and took a swig, gaze sweeping the officer’s club. From the radio, a band belted out “Chatanooga Choo Choo,” while loud, boisterous officers packed the Nissen hut, drinking beer, sucking on cigarettes, and openly ogling the nurses sitting at their own crowded table. Was it always this noisy?

It’d been a mistake to hope to relax before hitting the sack. The morning’s bombing strike had him so tied in knots he’d be lucky to clock a couple of hours sleep before briefing his crew.

His crew. Nine good men—like family—whose survival depended on him. Oh, God, don’t let me fail them. Den’s poke in the ribs interrupted his dark thoughts.

“Dare you to dance with that teensy bee-u-tiful nurse in the RAF uniform.” The redhead rocked back on his barstool. “That’s what I call a babe.”

Rob drained his pint. “Then you dance with her. The gossip mill’s busy enough without adding the base commander to the mix.”

“But she’s just your type, Bucko. You know, serious looking, kind of uncomfortable, sitting on the edge of her seat like she’s about to run—just like you at every dance at the Point.”

Frowning, Rob turned to look. And froze. The lieutenant’s black hair, pulled into a bun above her gray-blue uniform collar, caught the overhead lights and sparkled like raindrops on wet tarmac. His fingers itched to loosen the pins and watch it spill down her slim back. Pale skin, delicate nose—and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. He’d signed the papers placing her on-loan from the RAF, yet he couldn’t recall seeing her around the base hospital. A yearning he’d thought long buried threatened to weaken his resolve, and a bitter taste flooded his mouth as he looked away.

Den waggled his eyebrows and flapped his arms. “Chicken. I double-dare you.”

“Enough.” Rob growled. Refusing a double-dare would deal Rob a crushing defeat in their ongoing game of one-upmanship.

Besides, she might get his mind off that bombing strike.

He stood, unzipped his A-2, loosened his tie, and wove his way between the tables. Mouth dry as an empty fuel tank, he tapped her shoulder. “Care to dance?”

She stiffened and turned, gaze darting to the silver eagles on his shoulders.

He never fraternized with someone under his command. What if she refused? Then he’d get what he deserved—a red face and another foot added to that stone wall he’d built around himself.

“Och, no, but ... thank you,” she stammered, cheeks flushing.

One of the nurses nudged her. “What’s the matter, Maggie? You Scots only dance with men wearing skirts?”

She hesitated.

He tried a smile, nearly succeeded. “Well?”

A brief nod.

He pulled her to her feet and led her silently to the crowded dance floor. She really was tiny. At six-five, he was accustomed to towering over women, but the top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. He turned and placed his arm around her, hoping his tense body didn’t reveal his unease. Hard as it would be, he’d have to initiate the conversation. “So, um ... Leftenant Maggie, how do you like being here at Edenoaks?”

She averted her eyes. “’Tis very interesting.”

That tickled his funny bone. Must have been around Den too long. “Interesting? That’s not much of an endorsement.” Emboldened, he stooped over and said into her ear, “What’s the matter? Find us Yanks a little hard to stomach?”

She recoiled. “Och, no, Colonel.”

“Rob, please.”

“Rob.”

He opened his mouth to comment on her charming burr when she spoke up.

“I ... I’d best be going. I’ve drawn an early shift and I—”

“I’m only teasing, Leftenant.”

How stupid could he be? She’d offered him a perfect out and he’d thrown it away. Why could he conduct a briefing and argue bombing strategy with two-and-three-star generals, yet fail to untie his knotted tongue when talking to a woman?

Those blue eyes met his. “Only teasing, were you?”

The unspoken challenge in her slight smile dissolved the icy splinters of fear in his chest. He clasped her hand tighter as their feet moved to the slow love song, “The Nearness of You.” The softly crooned words washed against the stony shore of his heart. The scent of warm honey dislodged another stone. He leaned closer, his chin brushing her forehead. “Your hair smells sweet.”

“’Tis heather. A friend at home makes the soap and sends it to me.”

Her voice, soft and warm, reminded him of a breath of summer air in an open cockpit. “And home is ... where?”

“Innisbraw. I’m certain you’ve never heard of it.”

He tasted the word. Innisbraw, a fitting name for a village folded into the heart of mist-shrouded hills. “You’re right. But it has to be somewhere in Scotland where the heather blooms wild and a good friend makes you soap.” His labored breathing eased.

The nearness of you.

“Aye, ’tis a wee island. That’s where the Innis comes from. ’Tis one of the Gaelic words for island and braw is Scotssag for fine, even beautiful, in a rugged sort of way.”

“And what’s the word for ‘fine and beautiful,’ in a more refined way?”

“Bonnie.” Her shy whisper and downturned eyes brought a frisson of hope. Did she long for someone too?

The lilting Scots rolled effortlessly from his tongue. “Then, ’tis bonnie you are, Maggie, lass.”

The music crescendoed, faded, and died.

She looked up at him, those blue eyes with their violet depths calling him to dive in.

Could he muster the courage to seek her out later? Perhaps—if he survived the mission. He squeezed her hand before leading her back to her table. One last touch to treasure.

The nearness of you.

“Thank you, bonnie Maggie, for the dance. I hope to see you again. Soon.”

CrossReads Book Blast: Keeper of Reign by Emma Right

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Tue, 06 Aug 2013 08:00:00 +0000

This book sounded good, so I signed up to be part of the book blast. Okay, okay, I'm actually posting it because I want to support an author of five children. See a bit of myself in that. :)

Keeper of Reign

By Emma Right

About the Book

Books written in blood. Most are lost, their Keepers with them. A curse that befell a people. A Kingdom with no King. Life couldn’t get more harrowing for the Elfies, a blend of Elves and Fairies. Or for sixteen-year-old Jules Blaze. Or could it?

For Jules, the heir of a Keeper, no less, suspects his family hides a forgotten secret. It was bad enough that his people, the Elfies of Reign, triggered a curse which reduced the entire inhabitants to a mere inch centuries ago. All because of one Keeper who failed his purpose. Even the King’s Ancient Books, did not help ward off that anathema.

Now, Gehzurolle, the evil lord, and his armies of Scorpents, seem bent on destroying Jules and his family. Why? Gehzurolle’s agents hunt for Jules as he journeys into enemy land to find the truth. Truth that could save him and his family, and possibly even reverse the age-long curse. Provided Jules doesn't get himself killed first.

Keeper of Reign (Reign Fantasy) On Kindle
Keeper of Reign in Paperback

*~*

Emma Right is a happy wife and homeschool mother of five living in the Pacific West Coast of the USA. Besides running a busy home, and looking after their five pets, which includes two cats, two bunnies and a Long-haired dachshund, she also writes stories for her children. She loves the Lord and His Word deeply, and when she doesn't have her nose in a book, she is telling her kids to get theirs in one.

Right worked as a copywriter for two major advertising agencies and won several awards, including the prestigious Clio Award for her ads, before she settled down to have children.

Follow Emma Right
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This book blast is hosted by Crossreads.

We would like to send out a special THANK YOU to all of the CrossReads book blast bloggers!

Romeo and Juliet with a Happy Ending?? Adoring Addie by Leslie Gould

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Fri, 05 Jul 2013 02:50:00 +0000

Main ingredients for an Amish book:
~show a simple life
~have a sweet ending

How, then, could Leslie Gould even attempt to use Romeo and Juliet as the inspiration for her newest Amish novel? I mean, come on. The most tragic love drama of all time??? How can that possible come to a conclusion that would please the average reader of Amish fiction?

Since Leslie did such a great job with Courting Cate, which was inspired by The Taming of the Shrew, I was willing to bet she could do it. (See my review of that here.) Few books have me racing through the pages anymore--either because I'm analyzing the unique ones as an author or because I've seen the plot before--but I ADORED Adoring Addie, and I bet you will, too.

And the Winner Is ...!

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Thu, 04 Jul 2013 04:36:00 +0000

SO excited to announce the winner of the Kindle/1,000 custom-designed business cards giveaway ! Also, the newsletter has a whole new look. What do you think?

And the Winner Is ...!

My Father, My Hero

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Sun, 16 Jun 2013 22:13:00 +0000

An article came out on Novel Crossings today. A few authors were asked to share their memories of their dads. More specifically, what had their dads taught them?

I got to share my awesome dad with the world. Here's the piece--scroll down most of the way to see mine.

Want to see the dress I mention in the article?

And here I am at a Valentine's Day Banquet, with my sweet Dave, wearing the same dress NINETEEN years later!

When the Heart Heals

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Wed, 05 Jun 2013 21:32:00 +0000

Summer's coming, folks, which means hours of lolling around reading good books, right?

Ahem.

Maybe it's more like grabbing ten minutes of quiet time in the bathroom to sneak in a few pages, but either way, I thought it was time to recommend some new books. First up, Ann Shorey's When the Heart Heals.

Back Cover Blurb:

Courageous and unconventional, Rosemary Saxon served as a nurse during the Civil War, a service that has caused most women in town to regard her as unfeminine and downright vulgar. Although she would like to put her experiences as a nurse behind her, she must support herself.

Rosemary takes a position with Dr. Elijah Stewart and a mutual attraction begins to develop. But when a sophisticated woman arrives in town claiming to be Elijah’s fiancée, a heartbroken Rosemary decides to leave Noble Springs and start fresh. Can Elijah convince her of the mystery woman's deception before he loses her forever?

Return to the town of Noble Springs, Missouri, for an engrossing story of love’s tentative first steps and fragile future in the face of opposition. Readers will find in Rosemary a sympathetic but strong woman determined to thrive in a world that doesn’t always understand.

My take:

I've always loved Ann's writing. In fact, I wrote a rave review for her first book, Edge of Light, back in 2009 that you may read here.

If you open up the paperback version of When the Heart Heals, you can read my endorsement of the first book in the series. I'm sorry if I sound like a dork, but opening up a new release and seeing my name makes me feel like I'm still a real writer. :)

The authenticity of Where Wildflowers Bloom transported me straight to post-Civil War times, yet the characters--their hopes, dreams, conflicts, and fears--all ran contemporarily true. Another winner from Ann Shorey!

All that to say, I'd be shocked to ever read a book of hers that I don't enjoy. One of my favorite things about Ann's novels has always been the different slant of the women's careers. In a way, I leave her novels feeling like I got a realistic look at history and learned something I'd not known before. I found the early medical knowledge in this book to be fascinating. Of course, that's just the frosting on the cupcake. The real story is about finding the bravery to open one's heart to love.

At a moment of particular romantic tension, Ann writes, "Once they'd spread the quilt in the freckled shade cast by the tree ...." Only a genius writer can make laying of a blanket down fresh and new, while capturing the tone of the moment and giving the reader a great visual.

Check the book out. If you can, read Where Wildflowers Bloom first. When the Heart Heals can easily stand alone, but you'll enjoy the little nuances and nods to the previous story.

My Kids Spill All about Blending a Family

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Tue, 04 Jun 2013 15:59:00 +0000

Blending a family of five kids isn't always butterflies and gumdrops. I hope you will all hop over to Becky's blog for a moment to see what our kids think about our newish (more than 2 years) setup. I promise that I didn't edit them a bit!

Among Friends: The Ties That Bond Us: Love at First “Site”

Okay, okay, I do talk a little bit about falling in love with my sweet Dave, but what girl in my situation wouldn't?

On the Threshold Releases!

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Thu, 02 May 2013 23:29:00 +0000

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Infrequent, Humorous Newsletter

Motto: Infrequent and humorous, but never infrequently humorous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May 2013 (Issue #14)

Time for the age-old question: What should you get your mother for Mother's Day?

It doesn’t matter if you like her or not, we have the perfect answer for you—

On the Threshold, which released

YESTERDAY, May 1^st!

Yes, it’s been fourteen years since we came up with the idea of writing together, and now we are pleased to be able to offer the book to you finally. It is already available on the Kindle for only $4.99. It should release on the Nook, Sony Reader, and in every other e-format within days. You can find the appropriate files here at Smashwords if you’d rather not wait.

This contemporary Christian novel about a mother and daughter, written by a mother and daughter, is the perfect gift for Mother’s Day! If your mom doesn’t use an e-reader, wait just a few more days and you can buy it through every major retailer in print form or download Kindle for PC and you can read any Kindle book on your computer. Which we know you have, as we sent you this! Let us know if you’d like us to mail a signed copy directly to her.

So what’s the book about?

Suzanne Corbin and her daughter, Beth Harris, live a seemingly easy life. Suzanne has distanced herself from her past, replacing pain with fulfillment as a wife and mother, while Beth savors her husband’s love and anticipates the birth of their child. But all that is about to change.

Like a sandcastle buffeted by ocean waves, Suzanne’s façade crumbles when her perfect life is swept away. Tragedy strikes, and police officer Tony Barnett intersects with the lives of both women as he tries to discover the truth. Left adrift and drowning in guilt long ignored, Suzanne spirals downward into paralyzing depression. Beth, dealing with her own grief, must face the challenge of forgiveness. Can these two women learn to trust each other again? Will they find the power of God’s grace in their lives?

Suzanne ~ a mother with a long-held secret
Tony ~ a police officer with something to prove
Beth ~ a daughter with a storybook future

When all you love is lost, what’s worth living for?

Okay, this is where we need help from all of you. Some of you have been reading this newsletter from its very first edition back in November of 2006. Others have recently signed up for it. Wherever you fall on the continuum, you’re important to us.

Important enough to win a Kindle* loaded with our book, On the Threshold, and Christina’s award-winning The Familiar Stranger!

If you help get the word out, you can earn different points for each thing** you do, and every point represents an entry in the contest.

Say, for example, you name your next child “Threshold” in honor of our book. You would earn 100 points (entries), which would greatly increase your likelihood of winning.

Fine print to be read as quickly as those medical side effects are glossed over on TV: A certified copy of the birth certificate must be sent to Ashberry Lane proving the child was born between now and when the contest ends on June 3rd at 10 PM, PDT. Some restrictions apply, such as you must also promise not to change the child’s name to anything else for at least the next fifteen years. You are, however, allowed to use “Thresh” as his or her first name, and “Hold” as the middle.

If that seems like we’re asking a little too much, there are other ways for you to enter the contest.

~ Forward this Infrequent, Humorous Newsletter, you get ONE point per recipient.

~ Post about On the Threshold on Twitter or LinkedIn, or share the cover on Instagram or Pinterest, and you’ve doubled your points to TWO.

~ Refer someone to sign up for the newsletter. If he or she notes you as referrer, guess what? You just earned THREE points.

~ Blog about it and reap FOUR points. (We’re also available for blog interviews.)

~ And for those who buy the book (e-book or print copy), you will gain FIVE points.

~ Leave a review—positive or negative—on a retailing site after reading the book, and TEN points to you!

All you have to do to enter is drop us an email at Christina@ashberrylane.net with a description of what you did. We trust you.

Here is a sample email:

Dear Sherrie and Christina,

Fortunately, my last name is Hold, so when my triplets were born yesterday, all I had to do was name them "On," "The," and "Threshold." I also got the cover of On the Threshold tattooed on my arm, took a picture of it, and posted it on every possible social media site, including Facebook, though I understand I don't get points for anything done on there. Next, I forwarded the Infrequent, Humorous Newsletter to a few of my friends and ALL of my enemies. After reading the book in two hours, I posted an honest review on three different retail sites. Please enter my name 349 times.

Love,
Your #1 Fan

On Saturday, June 3^rd, Sherrie’s birthday, a random-number generator will determine our winner. We have a pet hamster training like crazy to be able to turn his exercise wheel to make sure the numbers are well mixed. (Don’t worry, we’re avoiding getting in trouble with PETA by having a gerbil spell him off. No animals will be harmed in the selection of the winner.)

We hope you get half as much enjoyment reading On the Threshold as we did writing and editing and editing and editing it. Peace, out!

If you were forwarded the email and you actually are still reading all the way to this spot, please sign up for the newsletter yourself.

*The type of Kindle depends on the number of entrants. The minimum prize is a normal Kindle; the maximum prize is a Kindle Fire HD.

**Any actions taken on Facebook such as sharing the cover or posting the link to the book, while highly encouraged, are not allowable as entries into any contest according to Facebook’s rules and regulations.

Have You Ever Lived Through "That Summer"?

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 08:30:00 +0000

That Summer
Book #1 in the Caney Creek Series
by Jo Huddleston
Released December8
A Southern historical novel

LEAVE A COMMENT FOR A CHANCE TO WIN A COPY!!

The Great Depression brings devastation to The Southern Appalachians, but love’s triangle survives.

To escape his poppa’s physical abuse and their dirt-poor farm life, Jim flees to an imagined prosperous city life where he can make his own choices, ignoring God patiently knocking on his heart’s door. Settled in town, Jim strays from God and the way of faith his momma taught him.
He meets a girl and loses his heart … and meets another girl and loses his willpower. Jim wrestles with social and moral dilemmas as he makes a choice beside Caney Creek that will alter the lives of five people.

[Christina here now:] I read Jo's book for endorsement a little while ago. First, I'll tell you what I thought of the book, then I'll let you hear from the author how it came about.

As surely as Caney Creek runs through the town, the story of That Summer swept me back to the pre-depression era, a time of hope and opportunity. Following Jim's ambitions, this book examines the effects of following self versus following God and the sometimes maddening,sometimes inspiring results.
~Christina Berry, award-winning author of The Familiar Stranger

How That Summer Came To Be:

The setting of That Summer is the Southern Appalachians of East Tennessee where my ancestors and I were raised. I’ve listened to the older generations tell their stories at family reunions about time before telephones and automobiles. Their stories fascinated me and caused me to want to write about a time before I was born.

This story percolated in my mind in the late 1990s. I’m what writers call a panster type of writer. I don’t outline my plot on paper. My entire plot and characters simmer in my mind before I write a word. Many times I don’t know the ending but I know how to get there. Of course, sometimes characters surprise me by going this way when I intended them to go another way. I love how my stories many times work themselves out as I write.

While this story still rumbled around in my mind, in 2001 I received a life altering health diagnosis with a negative prognosis. My first symptom was the loss of penmanship that nobody, even I, could read. Then I began to have involuntary muscle spasms that prevented me from holding my fingers on the home keys of a keyboard. I couldn’t write and couldn’t type—this was before speak-to-type.

I thought my writing career had vanished. I cleaned out my files—even trashed all my rejection letters I’d been saving. Now I wish I’d kept them to prove that I really am a writer. I gave away most of my writing craft books.

My mind was still intact but my body wouldn’t do what it was told. My balance while walking started to diminish and I quit going to writing conferences. My doctor advised me not to drive. I was dependent on my family to even get to my doctor’s appointments and still am.

In 2008, I began to improve. My hands were steadier and I could get my story started. The biggest aggravation when I write anything is the time I have to leave my story to research the facts. When the story starts pouring out of my mind I want to write. I write continuously, not indicating chapters but I do indicate scene and POV changes. After I finish that first draft I go back and do those things.

I have outlived my doctor’s prognosis by over a year and a half. I’m writing the second of a 3-book contract and feel fine other than fatigue when I don’t stop to rest now and then. Fatigue does bring on more unsteadiness in my hands and legs.

From 2001 to 2008 I had a lot of time to meditate. A relative marvels that I’ve never questioned God, why me? I have not become bitter because of the health issues. I think God just gave me time to understand a lot of things when I was inactive. I’m a more peaceful, patient, and faithful me.

This is the way That Summer came to be: hibernated for seven years, and then became a story on paper.

(Jo's publisher will sell her novel, That Summer, at a discounted price through this month of December only. You can buy the book for $9.99 if you click on this link http://donaldjamesparker.com/sosproducts.aspx?p=473&c=5

No limit to number of books purchased, but only discounted through December, 2012. The Kindle and Nook books should be online this week. Paperback will be on Amazon, B&N, and CBD whenever they put them on their websites.)

Courting Cate Wins My Heart

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Mon, 12 Nov 2012 01:52:00 +0000

I read the most delightful book the other day. And in one day, too! Never had I been so thankful to be stuck in a lobby while a mechanic repaired my car. :)

Leslie Gould has always been one of my favorite writers, but she's hit a new stride lately with her Amish novels. I've always said I don't read Amish, but--as I've found with all other genres I say I don't read--what I love is a well-told story. She does it again with her new release, Courting Cate, the first in The Courtships of Lancaster County series.

I have a degree in Literature--and one in Math, though that doesn't seem too important to mention right now--so I studied almost everything Shakespeare. Knowing this was a retelling of The Taming of the Shrew, I found myself giggling, searching, flipping through pages to find out how Leslie would tie the theme and plot points of such a complicated story into a book about a "simple" people. It was a delightful book in the truest sense of the word--each page, each twist, filled me with delight and put a smile on my face.

Which isn't to say it was a light or fluffy read. By the end, I had reexamined the way I treat the people I love and vowed to be an even better wife to my wonderful husband. I highly recommend this book. Buy your copy now, as I bet this will go on your keeper shelf!

Print Version

Kindle Version

The Odd Life of Lili Berry

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Sat, 25 Aug 2012 05:18:00 +0000

Though we're soon to leave on a BIG trip to Disneyworld, Dave and I had a date-night Sharing Spree Certificate to use before we left. My sweet husband, however, has been working himself to the bone to prepare for vacation and couldn't get home in time. That left Lili and me to go to a movie alone.

And we were meant to go together.

Never have I taken my youngest daughter to the movies alone, and never could I have planned a better first time. We watched The Odd Life of Timothy Green. Not giving away anything the previews don't reveal, I can say this movie is about a unique kind of adoption, a magical placement. A young boy turns up in a couple's life and he is most definitely meant for them. He also happens to have leaves growing out of his legs.

Yes, it was a heart-warming, meaningful story with great life lessons, so I was already tenderhearted as the movie neared the close, but in the last minute of the movie something happened that had me sobbing at the end.

As the credits were rolling, I lean over to the couple next to me. "This is my adopted daughter and her name is Lili."

The crying woman wipes her cheeks. "Our youngest is adopted too."

Together we marvel at the amazing gift of being given a child to raise and Lili and I trot off to the bathroom. (Yes, I'm pretty sure it was a trot, but it could have been a canter ...) In the stall, I sob again, overwhelmed and in awe that God blessed our family with the gift of Lili. She was not mine. Then she was. The enormity of the whole thing settles on me again.

Lo and behold, the woman comes in the bathroom too, and I ask--once I'm out of the stall-- "How old is your daughter?"

"Six."

I'm still crying. "Lili is six, too."

She leans closer. "What really got me about that movie is that our daughter has a physical difference, too." (I want to protect the family's privacy, so I won't say what she said it was, but it has to do with a hand.)

My heart expands, knowing that God had us in the same theater on the same night watching the same movie so we could meet. "My daughter was severely burned on her hand. Though it's healed amazingly, it still looks different."

And from there I meet her husband and we find out that our lives intersect in many other ways. As we go out the door of Cinetopia, I ask, "What is your daughter's name?"

She answers.

I move from the butter-flavored air into the summer night full of God's love, praising Him for His gift of grace.

Because GRACE is their daughter's middle name.

And that's my daughter's middle name.

And we all can have the gift of Grace.

Am I Really THAT Old??

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Tue, 21 Aug 2012 05:36:00 +0000

I like to weird my kids out by telling them how different certain things were when I was a kid. For instance, all three Berry children had dental appointments today.

In the middle of the cleanings, I started in, using a drawling, Texas accent for some reason. "When I was a kid, we only had mint tooth polish. And we got all excited when the bubble gum flavor came along."

Ya know, that kind of thing. Well, that pales in comparison to what just happened. Andrea came in to talk to me about a lady she's cleaning house for as I was getting ready for bed.

"Mom, do you think I could call her at 8, or would that be too early?"

I grabbed my PJs from the closet shelf. "I think that would be fine."

"Oh." Andrea's shoulders relaxed. "I just remembered she keeps her phone right by her when she sleeps. Mom." She gets right in front me, eyes wide. "She has THREE phones," -- she holds up three fingers to emphasize this -- "three home phones and they are all connected. Like if one rings by me, she can answer a phone in another room and it will stop ringing."

I about dropped my clothes I was laughing so hard. "Andrea, that's how all phones used to be!"

I'm not THAT old, am I?

A Couple of Good Links

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Thu, 09 Aug 2012 07:49:00 +0000

One of my writing friends, Dianne Price, just launched a website. This lady is a dear and I think you'll fall in love with her just from spending a little time there. I've had the pleasure of reading five of her soon-to-be published novels and I love her writing. Her characters, I'm convinced, are alive on a small island off Scotland. Drop in and leave her an encouraging comment.

Someday, when I get the chance, I'll post a video of her and me from last year's Oregon Christian Writer's conference. We almost get in a tussle ... and did I mention she'd a few decades older than I? :)

Also, though I've tweeted/facebooked/looped the news, I have not yet blogged about the short romance story contest I entered. It was a challenge to write a complete story idea in 1,000 words, but as soon as I started thinking about some health scares I went through a month or more ago, I knew what my story would be about. Come read "Miss Me No More" on the Family Fiction site.

There are many other good stories on there. The good news is that you can vote for as many as you'd like. The better news is that you, too, can enter!

Big Family Tip #1

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Thu, 26 Jul 2012 05:48:00 +0000

When we first married and combined our five kids into that wonderful thing called a blended family, we all had to get used to living with more people. Specifically, to sharing a bathroom with more people. In the case of the kids, a LOT more people. (All five children share one bathroom.)

Though we did our best--we thought--by sending them up in waves, there were still numerous low-key conflicts in the bedtime routine.

"He won't give me the toothpaste!"

"Her wet toothbrush just touched my arm!"

"I don't have any floss!"

"He spit swish in my hair!"

Only a few months in, I finally got smart and found a solution: we gave each child a little bin labeled with his or her name to hold flossers, toothpaste, and fluoride rinse (which we call swish) or mouthwash. Not only is there no more fighting over toothpaste, but they don't share their germs as everything is separated! It's also very easy to pull the interconnected bins out and wash them in the kitchen sink when they get a little nasty.

As I share these big family tips, I hope others who are looking for ways to make their lives less stressful can adapt them and find inspiration. Yes, even in the dried-out spit trails of a kids' bathroom sink. :)

Soul Saver: A Supernatural Winner!

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Tue, 24 Jul 2012 05:11:00 +0000

"Your opening pages set the tone for the entire novel, so make sure you follow through with the promise you’re setting up from the first page. Is the mood light or serious? Romantic or mysterious? Tense, suspenseful? Comedic or literary?" Maureen Lang gives this advice on ACFW's blog today.

Which was funny, as I read it right before starting this review and the very first thing I was going to say is that this debut novel by Dineen Miller is clear from the first pages that it's not your usual book. The Soul Saver is a supernatural story of a woman in a mismatched marriage, meaning she is a strong believer in Christ and her husband has lost his faith.

Desperate to love each other and have the strongest marriage possible despite their different beliefs, Lexie and Hugh find common ground in many areas. But Lexie has a special talent, a calling straight from God, and Hugh could never understand it. Or could he?

With a demonic presence out to get Lexie through a most unlikely source, both she and her husband will be stretched beyond what they thought they could bear emotionally, physically, and spiritually. If you are a fan of Frank Peretti, you will love this book!

(BTW, he just released his first new adult release in years and years, Illusion.)

Christy Award Winners and Carol Nominees

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Sat, 21 Jul 2012 20:41:00 +0000

We're having a birthday party with 30+ people for sweet Liliana in a few hours, so I'm too busy/lazy to do this myself, though I had planned on it: here are links to someone else's blog with all the award winners and nominees listed PLUS their covers.

Seeing the covers is such a better way to show the winners, in my opinion, because I might forget someone's name, but I can remember the cover art--like a "photographic" memory. Get it? hehe

Hmmm...maybe the frosting fumes from the 48 cupcakes are getting to me ...

Enjoy, peeps!

Carol Award Finalists

Christy Award Winners

Thanks to Cecelia Dowdy for going to all that work to make such beautiful posts!

If you'd like to re-live my Carol and Christy experiences, here you go. :)

Sparklers and Guns: All-American 4th of July

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 06:30:00 +0000

I guess The Start is a really good place to start when talking about the 4th, so here it is.

Before I met Dave, I never really ran much. I would try, and end up out of breath and dying after a few blocks. As a sprinter in junior high, I was used to RUNNING when I ran.

Turns out that running for most people is really a controlled, even jog. Once I found my sweet spot, it's become my favorite form of exercise. Especially because I run along a creek and see bunnies and ducks and squirrels.

So Dave proposed we do our first ACTUAL run together. The Oregon Road Runner's 4 on the 4th was a great one to start with! A nice, flat, four-mile run. So we got up early, drove 30 minutes to Wilsonville, paid money, waited for the start time--all to run four miles which we usually do very near our house for free.

Kind of cracks me up.

Here I am with my sweat man. Oh, I mean, my SWEET man. ;p

(I believe this is also the first picture I've ever put up on a blog of me pre-shower ...)

There was such adrenaline in the air! As they counted down the last seconds before the start, I had to keep my breathing nice and level or I would have been dying as I ran.

Check out the costumes! Made me wish I'd done something a little patriotic.

My favorite parts were wearing the little paper on my stomach, taking a water cup from a volunteer around Mile 3 and trying to drink while running, and finishing hand-in-hand with Dave.

(We decided to run our usual pace and not try for any great time, but we liked our 38:42 just fine on a hot, holiday morning.)

Then we got to take all five of the kids out to Gaston for the usual 4th of July antics as the Raichart Ranch. Nikki got great shots of the kids that you can see here, with a not-so-great-shot of me.

We always have a swinging good time there. (Andrea and Lili flying high on the tree swing)

Four of the five kids pose as they wait their turns.

But, wait! Where's Tanner?

Filling a plate of chips, of course.

After many dips in the pool, the kids finally got their clothes back on to play with sparklers.

At one point Josh ran below the deck past us, a lit sparkler in one hand and an Airsoft gun in the other, mouth wide in a gutteral scream.

Warmed my heart, that very moment capturing why young rebel America declared her independence!

(Half of me lighting some sparklers. Had no idea how to use the lighter ... lol)

Can Lili handle one in each hand?!?

Tanner and Josh defend their country.

It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it.

A Book that Brought Publishing Freedom

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Wed, 04 Jul 2012 07:38:00 +0000

I recently read James Scott Bell's Self-Publishing Attack: The 5 Absolutely Unbreakable Laws for Creating Steady Income Publishing Your Own Books. Jim and I have been pretty tight for years and years, ever since Mom and I wrote a second verse complete with hand motions for his Hairy Man worship song. Oh, but he might not be aware of how tight we are, so you don't need to mention anything to him. Ahem.

Jim's been publishing traditionally for years, but he produced a lot of writing from his discipline, and not all of it fit what his traditional audience expected. He began e-pubbing some short stories and a novella, then moved into full-length fiction.

He's got great advice in this book for anyone interested in writing, but where I found so much freedom was in his assertion that e-books allow writers to have more than one brand without harming the other. Also, as an author who continues to publish traditionally, he shows that authors CAN have it all--traditional contracts and printings AND instant feedback and sales for e-books.

I think this is particularly exciting because some of the things I've written since The Familiar Stranger are not in the same psychological-twist contemporary intrigue vein, yet they want to bleed out on a page for others to read. Mom and I have been planning for the last few months--might have even slipped to nigh a year--to edit and buff and polish and release our joint novel ourselves.

Jim's book made me believe I could do it, that I wouldn't be rebelling against traditional publishers by publishing material they can't place anywhere in their lineups. That it could be a mutually beneficial move where I can build readers and more platform by publishing what I've written and then future traditional publishers can reap that benefit as I gain ground. At the very least, I'll gain experience.

~~~

On this 4th of July, I'd like to point my readers to the great gift of freedom ever: our Savior Jesus Christ; and the Book that sets us free, the Bible.

John 8:36 NLT 
So if the Son sets you free, you are truly free.

How We Eat When the Kids Are Gone

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Sat, 30 Jun 2012 06:08:00 +0000

(This post is not entirely true as my sweet honey took me to The Olive Garden tonight for a delicious 2 for $25 meal of never-ending bread sticks and salad, fried calamari, pork and beef ravioli, spaghetti and meatballs, and smoked mozzarella chicken. Yum!)

We try to eat at least one nice meal alone at home on weekends when we're kid-free. Here's what we ate last time:

~an artichoke slathered in butter and steamed in vinegar water
~homemade dip of butter, sour cream, mayo, garlic salt, and lemon pepper
~baked tilapia, crusted with seasoned, whole wheat crumbs
~kale chips, made by baking kale with drizzles of EVOO and sprinkled with sea salt
~blueberries
~herb & butter mashed potatoes

Man, the kids missed out ...

On second thought, when I read through the list with the palate of a child, maybe they would be happy they were gone!

Tips for Large Families--Size-wise, not Weight-wise

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Thu, 28 Jun 2012 03:48:00 +0000

Hey, since I'm attempting to be a regular blogger again--did you notice I've posted every other day for a whole week? Didja? Didja?--I'm planning to introduce a new blog series on things I've figured out that make mothering large families easier. See, I've been cooking, cleaning, and shopping for a family of seven for more than ONE WHOLE YEAR now, which obviously makes me an expert, right?

I have a few tips already planned, but what would you like to know? Laundry? Food storage? Food consumption? Toilet paper usage??? This is your chance to ask any question you've been wondering about.

My best friend, Brooke, came from a family of nine and I always wondered how her mom did it. In fact, I might have creeped Maureen out by watching for clues whenever I was over there. I mean, they ate more than a loaf of bread in one lunch! :)

So have at it. As a prompt, I'll add a photo of our kids that might raise some questions.

Yes, we went out in public like that and, No, it was not Halloween ...

Chasing Sunsets by Eva Marie Everson

noreply@blogger.com (Christina Tarabochia) — Tue, 26 Jun 2012 00:46:00 +0000

Buy it

I'm not going to pressure myself by calling this an actual "review," so I'm just going to tell you what I thought about this book, okay?

I've read several, if not many, of Eva's books--she was the FIRST coaching class teacher I had at OCW way back eight or nine years ago--and this is my favorite so far. The writing is rich, the scenery lush and humid and alive. There's sadness, romance, mystery, faith ... and also the fallout of an unwanted divorce. Unless I blinked and missed them, there aren't many books written for the Christian market that focus on a divorced woman and the wooing of her injured heart. Having been through this myself, I found the emotions and hard situations incredibly true-to-life.

She also does some really different things with Point of View(POV) that worked. Quite often, when I'm editing and a client needs help with understanding POV, I'll give examples of books that do it well. I'm adding Chasing Sunsets to the list.

I did not want the book to end. In fact, I just might be downloading the next book in the Cedar Key series, Waiting for Sunrises. :)