Debbie Viguié's Blog, page 25

I'm thrilled to say that The Thirteenth Sacrifice, book one of the Witch Hunt series, hits stores on Tuesday. I've been getting a lot of nice buzz for this title and it was even selected as a Top Pick by Romantic Times. It will be available in bookstores and everywhere online. I'm finishing writing book 2 right now.

I'm thrilled to say that The Thirteenth Sacrifice, book one of the Witch Hunt series, hits stores on Tuesday. I've been getting a lot of nice buzz for this title and it was even selected as a Top Pick by Romantic Times. It will be available in bookstores and everywhere online. I'm finishing writing book 2 right now.

Welcome scavengers and hunters alike! I'm glad to have you here. I am a NYT Bestselling author of YA dark fantasy (Wicked, Crusade, Wolf Springs Chronicles). I also write adult thrillers and mysteries (Witch Hunt, Kiss trilogy, Psalm 23 Mysteries). There's a lot to see on my site so I hope you'll bookmark it and come back later. Now, on with the hunt!

This tri-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors…and a chance to win some awesome prizes! On this hunt, you get access to exclusive content from each author and you'll find clues to solve each team's puzzle–one lucky winner will receive TWENTY signed books! But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 72 hours!

Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt start page for more information about the hunt. This post is one of the stops for the BLUE Team. Search my post for a letter that's blue colored.

It's my joy to be hosting Gretchen McNeil.

Gretchen McNeil is an opera singer, writer and clown. Her YA horror/paranormal POSSESS debuted with Balzer + Bray for HarperCollins in 2011. Her second novel, TEN – YA horror/suspense about ten teens trapped on a remote island with a serial killer – will be released September 18, 2012. Gretchen is a former coloratura soprano, the voice of Mary on G4′s Code Monkeys and she currently sings with the LA-based circus troupe Cirque Berzerk. Gretchen is also a founding member of the vlog group YARebels where she can be seen as "Monday."

Gretchen's new book TEN comes out September 18th.

And their doom comes swiftly.

It was supposed to be the weekend of their lives—an exclusive house party on Henry Island. Best friends Meg and Minnie each have their reasons for being there (which involve T.J., the school's most eligible bachelor) and look forward to three glorious days of boys, booze and fun-filled luxury.

But what they expect is definitely not what they get, and what starts out as fun turns dark and twisted after the discovery of a DVD with a sinister message: Vengeance is mine.

Suddenly people are dying, and with a storm raging, the teens are cut off the from the outside world. No electricity, no phones, no internet, and a ferry that isn't scheduled to return for two days. As the deathS become more violent and the teens turn on each other, can Meg find the killer before more people die? Or is the killer closer to her than she could ever imagine?

And here's a sneak peak excerpt from her book TEN:

A roar of wind rattled every window in the garret and the rain lashed at the glass so fiercely it sounded as if someone had thrown a handful of pebbles at the side of the house. The light filtering through the white gauze curtains was muted and dull, and Meg's first thought as she squinted her eyes open was that the storm must have raged all night without letting up. Judging by the wind and the rain, they were in for another dark, damp day on Henry Island.

She shivered and pulled the quilt up around her ears. Damn, the house was freezing. Had someone turned off the heat? She rolled on her side to check the time on the alarm clock but the digital face was completely blank. No wonder it was so cold in the house. The storm must have knocked out the power during the night. No power, no heat, no satellite. Minnie was right – they needed to catch the first boat out of there.

Meg listened for other noises in the house, but there was only the sound of Minnie's rhythmic breathing. She lay there for a moment, eyes squeezed shut against the encroaching daylight, and wondered if she should get up and tell someone about the power outage. Eh, what could they do? No point in leaving a warm bed. She snuggled under her covers, hoping she'd drift back off to sleep.

Except she had to pee. Small bladder and too much beer. She swung her legs over the bed and tested her toes on the frigid floor, silently cursing her decision not to pack slippers. With the giant comforter wrapped around her, Meg tiptoed across the garret and down the stairs.

There was a slight breeze in the open stairwell of the tower that sent a chill racing down Meg's neck. She hitched the comforter up over her head – sympathizing suddenly with Eskimos, mummies, and women in burkas – and quickened her pace.

Pat, pat, pat. The sound of her bare feet was distant and fuzzy as it permeated the layers of thick down wrapped around her head. Her toes were so cold she could barely feel the smooth wood of the stairs, and the comforter cocoon was like having blinders on: she could only see a small oval right in front of her. She moved as quickly as her bulky wrap would allow, praying she didn't trip and send herself careening down the stairs or worse, over the railing. That fall would certainly end in a broken neck.

Why was she always thinking of the most morbid scenarios? Sheesh. Just go down to the bathroom then back to a warm, comfy bed.

Pat, pat, pat.

Creeeeeak.

Meg paused. Was that the stairs creaking? It sounded like it came from somewhere above her. Maybe the old house was straining against the storm? She rounded a corner of the stairs and heard it again.

Creeeeeeak. A shadow on the white wall of the tower caught her eye. There was something odd about it, something familiar and yet there shouldn't be a shadow there at all. The windows in the tower didn't have any curtains, nothing to cast a shadow. Meg stared at it for a second and noticed the shadow was moving, swaying slowly from left to right.

Creeeeeak.

Meg froze, her eyes locked on the shadow. The heavy form, oblong and amorphous except for the dangling appendages…

Legs. Holy crap, they were legs.

Meg turned her head and came eye-to-eye with a face hanging in the stairwell. The noose around the neck. The purplish-blue hue to the skin.

Meg opened her mouth and screamed.

Preorder this book by clicking here.

Visit Gretchen's website by clicking here.

I'm giving away a free copy of Damned (the second book in the Crusade series) on my site here as well. To enter, comment below (1 entry) and tell me if you have followed me on Twitter (1 entry), liked my page on Facebook (2 entries) and followed my reviews on Goodreads (1 entry). Additional entries will be given for tweeting about the contest and for signing up for my newsletter.

And now on to the next stop on the YA Scavenger Hunt!

Visit Joy Preble by clicking here.

First off, my apologies for disappearing here. I will be continuing Book Club next month and I will announce winners of last month's Book Club prizes in a few days. Also, for those of you looking for the next Psalm 23 Mysteries novel, Beside Still Waters, I'm sorry to say that it's been delayed by a couple of weeks.

I've been incredibly sick since Christmas. First I had the flu complete with wicked asthma. Before I had recovered I ended up getting a bug bite on my leg which got infected and five weeks later that led to surgery. I won't belabor the details, but rest assured that if I had written the events of the last two months into a story people would have decried it as completely unbelievable. Yet more proof that truth is stranger than fiction. The good news is I'm finally recovered and back to work. The bad news is I'm behind on everything. I am working as fast as I can to get things back on track. In the meantime, thank you for all your patience, support, and enthusiasm. I'll be making announcements shortly regarding new projects and also the new release date for Beside Still Waters.

Thanks! Since you've been all waiting so patiently, I thought you'd like to see the rough cover for the book.

This is one of my favorite covers ever! I am so excited about this cover and I couldn't wait to share it with everyone. Let me know what you think!

Sorry for disappearing from book club. I've been sick for a few weeks. (Which has not been a good way to start off a year where I intend to write 1,000,000 words!) So, here's my question for all you: Justin or Trick? Which one should Katelyn end up with in your opinion? To make it more interesting I'll be giving away a free book to the person with the best (which could mean funniest, most compelling, etc.) answer. I know who I think she should end up with (and I'm not telling). Who do you think?

For those of you who were following my Advent Calendar you know that I've got a busy year planned with a lot of goals, including writing one million words. (Gasp!) It's going to be tough, but I'm dedicated to trying to make it and I'm going to keep you all updated on my progress.

I'm getting over the flu, so the first day of 2012 isn't starting off quite as I hoped, but that's okay. I just wanted to wish you all a healthy, joyous new year and I hope that you are able to make it what you want it to be. I'm dubbing 2012 The Year of Adventure! That's my hope and dream for this year.

As promised, I'm going to be doing a book of the month club kind of thing. Each month we'll take a different book (usually one of mine, but not always) and discuss it. I'll have questions for you, you can ask questions of me, and there will be freebies and contests. I'll talk about all of that in the coming week. For now, though, grab yourself a copy of Wolf Springs Chronicles: Unleashed and let's get the discussion started.

Werewolves – love 'em, hate 'em, can't decide? I love them and have loved them since I was a little girl. I even dressed up like a werewolf for a Halloween party my parents' Sunday School class had. All the kids that were old enough acted as waiters during the evening (and we got some great tips!) I dressed up like a werewolf in mid-transformation complete with torn clothes and fake fur sticking out. I didn't actually "get" the attraction to vampires until I was in college. As a kid I was all about the werewolves. I love them so much that I have two series that feature them. Not only is Wolf Springs Chronicles all about werewolves but there is also a werewolf in the Crusade series. (Holgar, my favorite character in those books.) There are some similarities between the werewolves in both series but also some serious differences. And, for those of you who've seen my first book in my Christian vampire series you should know that I totally would love to do a Christian werewolf series later. It could happen.

So, over to you! How do you feel about werewolves in general?

The first 15 people to comment this month on one of these book club posts will get a signed bookplate.

Merry Christmas everyone! Thanks for following the Advent Calendar. I've had a lot of fun and I hope you have too. Let's do it again next year. In the meantime I'm starting up my book of the month club in January with Unleashed. More on that later this week.

Congratulations to yesterday's winners! Tina G. won a $10 Think Geek gift card and Emma Lueckler won a $10 Barnes & Noble gift card.

And now, as promised, the first chapter of Beside Still Waters.

Cindy Preston loved Saturdays. She loved them even more when she was on vacation and as she finished eating breakfast at her hotel, the Waikiki Beachcomber in Honolulu, she thought that this might just be one of the best Saturdays ever. There was a stack of brochures on her table all extolling the virtues of various sights and activities on the island.

As she finished her soda she thought gratefully of TK who had originally won the trip to Hawaii at the time share sales seminar but had swapped her for the mini television she had won. She had flown in the day before and was flying out on Tuesday morning.

She tapped the top brochure on the stack with a pink fingernail she'd had manicured for the occasion. It was Memorial Day weekend and she couldn't think of a better way to keep the holiday than by going to Pearl Harbor and seeing the Arizona Memorial.

I wonder what Jeremiah's doing, she thought as she stood and gathered her things. Jeremiah Silverman was the rabbi at the synagogue next door to the Presbyterian church where Cindy worked as a secretary. Since they had first met the previous year over the body of a dead man in the church sanctuary they had forged an unlikely alliance and a budding friendship that meant more to her than she liked to admit to herself.

He had volunteered to drop her off at the airport the day before and would be picking her up Tuesday morning when she returned.

I should have taken the whole week off work, she lamented. There was no way she was going to be in the mood for work Wednesday morning. And Ginny, her new roommate and the church's graphic designer, had made it quite clear that if she didn't come back with pictures of the wedding pavilions of a couple of the local hotels that she shouldn't come back at all. Ginny had recently become engaged to Joseph, a wealthy church member and a friend of Cindy's.

As she grabbed a taxi and settled into the backseat she reflected on just how much all their lives had changed in the last year.

Some more than others.

She grimaced and banished the unhappy thoughts from her mind and focused instead on the scenery out her window.

"Where you from?"

She jumped, startled, as she realized that the taxi driver was talking to her.

"California."

"No kidding, my cousin lives there."

"Small world," she murmured.

"How long you stay?"

"I go home Tuesday."

"Too bad."

"Yes, I wish I could stay longer," she said.

"It's a good time to see the Memorial. It's sacred ground you know."

"Because of the men who died there?" she asked.

"Because of the sacrifice, the dead, the living."

She didn't know what to say.

"You like good food?"

She hesitated, wondering why he was asking. It seemed like an odd question unless he was going to ask her out. The locals all seemed so friendly, maybe that was all it was.

"Yes, do you have any recommendations?"

"Sure. You should go eat lunch at my uncle's restaurant. They have da kine plate lunch, best on island."

"Where is it?"

"It's off the base about a fifteen minute walk from where I'm dropping you off. He's great friends with the sailors. I show you and you no miss it."

"Thanks."

A few minutes later when they pulled up outside the Pearl Harbor Visitor Center he pointed out how she could walk to Uncle's.

She walked into the Center and began to look around. There were displays talking about the attack on Pearl Harbor during World War II. A screen showed the few bits of footage they had of the actual attack. People were milling around quietly.

After about an hour she boarded the boat to head on over to the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial. A tour group was on the boat as well and she listened as the guide explained what they were about to see.

"The memorial itself actually straddles the sunken Arizona. In the middle of the memorial you'll be able to look down into the water and see one of its gun turrets. The sailors who died on the Arizona are still there on the ship."

Cindy shuddered as she felt her pulse begin to race a little. She couldn't help but think about her sister who had died when they were children. Her body had been recovered, buried in a grave where family could visit. The sailors were interred in their watery grave. How hard must that have been on friends and family?

She bit her lip and forced herself to refocus on what the guide was saying. "Other ships were sunk as well. The Oklahoma capsized almost immediately. Some sailors were able to survive, though, by escaping through the portals. The portals were so narrow, though, that only the skinniest made it out. Their friends and comrades who could not fit helped shove them through until they themselves drowned. The bodies of some of these heroes remain on the Oklahoma."

Horror stole through her as she thought about what those trapped men had gone through. She couldn't imagine a worse death than drowning. And yet they had had the courage to help push their friends to safety. She understood suddenly what her taxi driver had meant by sacrifice.

As they neared the dock she looked around. Leis and wreaths floated in the water all around the Memorial. Hallowed ground, she thought. As she stared at the floating tokens she felt tears sting her eyes.

The boat docked and a minute later she was standing on the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial and around her people's voices were hushed.

Because we're standing on top of graves, she realized as her eyes scanned the list of names on the wall which was accompanied by a plaque that proclaimed: To the memory of the gallant men here entombed and their shipmates who gave their lives in action on December 7, 1941 on the U.S.S. Arizona.

One older man covered in tattoos was standing, tears streaming freely down his face. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd had a relative who had been killed there or if it was just the power and poignancy of the place itself that so touched him.

She walked around, looking out at the harbor around them. She skirted the section in the middle where you could look down on the ship itself. She couldn't bring herself to look, afraid that she would start crying uncontrollably. Chills kept washing over her. The day before Pearl Harbor had just been a name to her, a place, a historical event. And now it felt so real and she mourned the men who had died there decades before she was born.

She could tell people around her were feeling the same way. A woman nearby was crying and hugging a uniformed soldier, thanking him for his service to his country. Cindy respected her reaction and felt the need to thank every member of the armed services personally and individually for their service, their sacrifice.

It was more than she'd expected to feel and it overwhelmed her. She thought about Jeremiah. He was from Israel and like all of its citizens he had served his time in the military.

He could have been killed, just like the men here. There is so much violence in that part of the world, so many attacks though smaller than this one deadly still. And he could have lost his life in any one of them. And then I never would have met him. And I would have been killed last year.

Now she was crying freely and she had to leave. She felt like she couldn't breathe and she struggled not to think about the men who had drowned here, gasping for air when there was none.

I can breathe. There is air. In. Out.

She got onto the boat and fixed her eyes on the shore. She had been thinking of taking the boat tour around the harbor, circling Ford Island, and the remains of the Oklahoma, but she couldn't. She just needed to get away.

As soon as she made it back onto dry land she hurried away from the center as fast as she could. Her mind was racing and she felt queasy. She should stop, get on one of the buses or take a taxi, but she just kept walking, sucking the warm, fragrant air into her lungs and reminding herself that she was alive.

She heard a shout and she turned and saw a man on a small boat helping a man in a wetsuit with scuba gear onto the boat. They turned and looked at her and the man on the boat waved. She gave them a little wave back before hurrying on. Everyone was so friendly in Hawaii.

Detective Mark Walters felt like he had bearded the lion in his den. The man sitting across from him was staring at him, daggers in his eyes. The silence that stretched between them was thick with tension.

The weeks since his suspension from the police department had been a living nightmare, but it all paled in comparison to the danger he felt like he was in at that moment.

"Look, I don't like this anymore than you do," Mark growled, breaking the silence first and trying not to feel like that meant he had lost.

Rabbi Jeremiah Silverman was still glowering at him. "I'm not your rabbi."

"Yeah, but you're the closest thing to a rabbi or a priest or whatever that I've got. And I'll be hanged if I am going to go spill my guts to the department shrink," Mark said.

"I could refuse to sign off on your psych evaluation," Jeremiah said, staring stonily at him.

"And I could start asking how a crazy mother like you became a rabbi," Mark said.

He watched closely to see if his remark hit home. If it did, the rabbi refused to show it, face remaining inscrutable.

"Take your shot," he said with a shrug. "Though I'm not sure how your supervisors will feel about it."

Jeremiah had called his bluff.

Mark sighed and leaned forward. "Look, just cut the crap. The department won't even think about reinstating me without a psych evaluation and mandatory hours of therapy."

"How many?"

"Too many. The point is-"

"The point is you think I'll just let you off easy."

"I was hoping so," Mark said, locking his jaw.

Jeremiah leaned forward. His eyes looked tired, but there was a determined air about him. "Look, Mark. If you insist on doing this there's no holding back here. You're right, as a rabbi I do have counseling experience which can be called upon in these types of circumstances. But I won't give you a pass. If you come to me for the hours, you're going to have to put in the effort. It's both our jobs if we don't do this right."

Mark slumped in his chair. Jeremiah was right, he just didn't want to hear it. He'd already had four sessions with the department psychologist, enough to know that he didn't trust the guy to be the one deciding his fate. And he wasn't someone he had any intention of spilling his guts to ever.

"Fine."

"Okay, we can start now."

"Now?"

"Unless you're not serious," Jeremiah said, lacing his fingers together.

"Need I remind you that I did what I did to save your skin?" Mark demanded.

"And I want you to rest assured that that will have no bearing whatsoever on my assessment of your ability to do your job."

"Bastard."

Jeremiah smirked. "No, but I've been called worse."

"I bet you have."

Mark leaned back in his chair. "Okay, let's get this over with."

"Okay. Tell me what happened in that interrogation room."

Mark could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat. He shut his eyes, wishing he could block the memories as easily. He balled his fists in frustration. Jeremiah wasn't going to pull any punches or beat around the bush.

Fine. I asked for this. For him.

"I realized that he was the only one who might be able to call of the hit. Your life, the lives of those kids, stacked up to a lot more than this man's rights."

"And to more than your duties and responsibilities as a police officer."

Mark opened his eyes and stared at him, rage roiling inside him. "It's my duty and responsibility to protect and serve. I was protecting all of you. I was doing the city a service."

"And you tortured a man because you felt you had to."

"Yes."

Jeremiah raised an eyebrow and Mark silently cursed, wishing he knew what to say, what answers would get him out of trouble and back on the job.

But there was a long way to go and so many questions.

"What can I say? Sometimes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. I made a decision and I stand by it."

"You stand by it. You'd make it again?"

"Yes."

"But can you live with it?"

Mark could feel himself beginning to sweat. He felt like the rabbi was staring right through him, piercing his very soul.

"I have nightmares," he whispered, feeling like he was having to wrest the words free. He hadn't admitted that to anyone, not even his wife, even though she surely knew. He awoke most mornings screaming, images of the man's bloody face swimming in front of him.

"I'm sure that you do."

"Look, I believe absolutely that it was the right decision."

"But just because you believe it was right doesn't make it easy to live with."

"No," he admitted. "I wish I never had to make it. I wish it had been Paul at the precinct, me heading to the mountains to try and help."

"So, you wish you were dead instead of sitting here?"

And it sounded so terrible coming from the rabbi's lips that way. But heaven help him, it was true. He could have died a hero and he wouldn't have had to drag his wife through this hell with him.

And I would never have known Paul was lying to me, that he wasn't who he said he was.

The mystery of his partner's true identity still hadn't been solved. The coroner was the only one who had discussed it with him. Knowing that the man he'd called Paul TK wasn't, that the real Paul TK was in a mass grave at Green Pastures camp haunted him.

It felt like his entire career was a house of cards that someone had knocked over with a single breath, like blowing out a candle.

No, not someone. Me. I did this to myself.

And he had been over it a thousand times in his head and he knew that Paul had known exactly what Mark would do, pushed the right buttons to ensure that Mark would do exactly what he did.

"Did I do the right thing?" he whispered, hearing the heartache in his own voice.

Jeremiah stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. When he spoke again his voice was also softer, and he could hear compassion in it. "What we're here to discuss is how you feel, how you think, and whether that makes you fit for duty or not. What I believe, what the department believes, these are not the issue. The only opinion I'm here to give is on whether or not I think you can safely return to your duties as a police officer without putting yourself or others in jeopardy. And until we're done, you won't hear me voice opinions on anything else."

"That wasn't designed to make me feel good," Mark said.

Jeremiah cleared his throat. "That's not my job."

Cindy made it off the base and finally found herself standing outside a little restaurant with a sign that read Uncle's. It made her smile. Apparently the proprietor wasn't just her cab driver's uncle, but everyone's uncle. She had heard somewhere that it was local custom to refer to older people as Auntie or Uncle and people your own age as Cousin, regardless of relation.

It was early, only just after eleven. The open sign was lit and a small hand-lettered sign declared that they opened at half past whenever and closed when they felt like it.

She laughed, beginning to feel better. The island lifestyle and slower pace was something she'd heard about, but it played out in the most interesting ways.

She pushed the door and it swung open freely. The interior was brightly lit but empty. There were half a dozen tables with chairs clustered around them. A counter at the back was positioned with a menu hanging on the wall above it.

She walked forward, perusing the menu.

She had finally settled on the Loco Moco which was supposed to be a favorite according to the sign.

Having decided she looked around for a bell to ring but saw none.

"Hello?" she called.

There was no sound from the kitchen area which she could see a sliver of through an open doorway.

"Hello?" she called, louder this time.

Silence.

Maybe they weren't open yet.

But the sign outside had been lit.

And the door had been unlocked. But maybe that wasn't uncommon here.

She turned to go and her eyes fell on an iPhone sitting on the counter. It seemed out of place. Beside it was a Tip Jar that was stuffed full.

Better just go, she told herself.

And then her eyes fell on the cash register. The drawer was open and she could see money just sitting there.

There had to be someone in the restaurant. There was no way they would just leave the drawer open and leave.

She bit her lip, torn. Finally she picked up a take-out menu and dialed the phone number listed there.

The iPhone rang and she jumped.

"You've reached Uncle. Leave me a message and tell me how you like the food."

She hung up.

There was nothing else she could do. The restaurant and the money weren't her responsibility. She walked out the door and as it swung shut she noticed an emergency contact number in the window.

It would be stupid to dial it. Obviously someone was either there or would be back soon. Maybe they were just in the bathroom.

Someone could be sick or injured. Uncle must be older and he could need help.

She gritted her teeth and dialed the number. It started to ring and she heard a shrill ring coming from inside the restaurant.

And then it went to voicemail.

She hung up and took a deep breath. She glanced around. There were several other businesses close by. Maybe she should go inform someone at one of them of what she had found.

But what if someone steals the money because I didn't do everything I could? she asked herself. And what if someone's injured and needs help?

For all she knew Uncle was a large, overweight man who could have had a heart attack. She walked back toward the counter.

This is stupid, it's not your job.

And she thought of the men on the Oklahoma, dying, and yet still pushing others to safety. She took a deep breath. Finding out if the owner needed help was such a little thing.

"Hello?" she shouted this time.

Still no answer.

She walked around the counter and took a step into the kitchen.

And that was when she smelled blood.

The hair on the back of her neck raised up and she gripped the doorjamb hard.

Uncle could have fallen, hit his head.

She forced herself to take another step, and then another.

And then she could see all of the kitchen. She saw white countertops, stainless appliances, and a dead man on the floor lying in a pool of blood, a bullet hole in his forehead.

Happy Christmas Eve!!! As part of my 1,000,000 words in 2012 in challenge, I wanted to let you have a sneak peak at what I plan to write next year:

2 Psalm 23 Mysteries

Book 3 of the Wolf Springs Chronicles series

Books 2 and 3 of the Witch Hunt series

Book 3 of the Kiss Trilogy

Book 1 in my Western series

2 short stories

1 Steampunk novel

2 new YA books

1 book in a new series with Nancy Holder

And a couple more surprises!

It's going to be a busy year!!!

So, favorite gift I've given so far this Christmas: a Star Wars Death Star Planetarium from Think Geek. Today's giveaway will be a $10 Think Geek gift certificate. The winner of yesterday's gift certificate is: Les Ozmon. Congratulations!!

Hit the site tomorrow and read the first chapter of Beside Still Waters. It's my Christmas gift to everyone.