Debbie Viguié's Blog, page 27

Happy December 13th! The Kindle contest is still underway. Here's how it works: you nominate a friend/family member/coworker/etc. who you think needs a Kindle (tell us why they need/deserve one!) I'll be collecting entries until December 21st and then a winner will be chosen and the person nominated and the one who nominated them will both receive a Kindle! You only have to nominate a person once but you can nominate different people on different days if you want to. All you have to do to enter is comment on one of the Advent Calendar posts between now and then. But there are also daily giveaways of cool stuff too! Daily winners will be selected from that day's comments.

Yesterday's winner of a signed copy of The Winter of Candy Canes is Na S. Congratulations! To enter today's giveaway, just comment below. Some of you may know that my lucky number is 13. So, today's goodie is 13 fun facts about me and my work. To see what the giveaway for today is, you'll have to read to the bottom.

1. I originally chose 13 as my lucky number because I thought it would be a fun and obnoxious thing for me to be able to say back when I was a kid. Since then it has actually been a very lucky number for me.

2. Westerns are my favorite genre. One of my best friends and I love to take old-time photos whenever we're someplace we can have them done. We always say that we'll do something new next time but inevitably we always end up as outlaws. And she usually has a sawed-off shotgun in her hand. I'm working on a series of western novels that I consider to be my masterpiece. I'm hoping to bring them to market in the next couple of years. Fingers crossed!

3. My favorite book of all time is The Lone Star Ranger by Zane Grey. You can read an excerpt here and download a free Kindle copy here. This was the book that inspired me to become a writer.

4. Other favorite books when I was growing up include the books of James Herriot including All Creatures Great and Small, Snow Dog and Haunt Fox both by Jim Kjelgaard, The Call of the Wild by Jack London, and The Unexpected Mrs. Pollifax by Dorothy Gilman. I've read Snow Dog more than three hundred times.

5. My favorite movie of all time is Star Wars: Return of the Jedi.

6. My favorite movie to have on while I'm writing is the extended edition cut of The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring.

7. My favorite song of all time is Holding Out for a Hero by Bonnie Tyler.

8. I have visited 11 countries on 4 continents, but I was in a writing class with a woman who is a motivational speaker and she's visited all 7 continents. Yes, she did a motivational training video shot in Antarctica. She's one of my heroes because of that.

9. The book I wrote that made me laugh hysterically the entire time is The Fall of Candy Corn. It made my dad laugh a lot too.

10. I never lack for book ideas. I'm inspired by anything and everything. I keep a running file of all my ideas. So far I'm up to about 650. Yes. Big number.

11. My favorite Christmas song of all is Little Drummer Boy by White Heart.

12. My favorite thing about Christmas is when I can give someone a present I know they're going to love.

13. My favorite Christmas movies are: Scrooge (Albert Finney version), Twice Upon a Christmas, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, A Christmas Story, and Die Hard. Yup. It's a Christmas movie.

And today in honor of my lucky number I'm giving a $13 gift certificate to one of my favorite online retailers: Amazon. So comment below to enter for your chance to win the gift certificate.

Happy December 12th! The Kindle contest is still underway. Here's how it works: you nominate a friend/family member/coworker/etc. who you think needs a Kindle (tell us why they need/deserve one!) I'll be collecting entries until December 21st and then a winner will be chosen and the person nominated and the one who nominated them will both receive a Kindle! You only have to nominate a person once but you can nominate different people on different days if you want to. All you have to do to enter is comment on one of the Advent Calendar posts between now and then. But there are also daily giveaways of cool stuff too! Daily winners will be selected from that day's comments.

Yesterday's winner of a signed copy of I Shall Not Want is Julie Bonoma. Congratulations! To enter today's giveaway, just comment below. Today's goodie is an excerpt from The Winter of Candy Canes. Today's winner will receive a signed copy of The Winter of Candy Canes.

To read the excerpt here.

And here's what the repackaged cover of the book will look like when it comes out:

Happy December 11th! The Kindle contest is still underway. Here's how it works: you nominate a friend/family member/coworker/etc. who you think needs a Kindle (tell us why they need/deserve one!) I'll be collecting entries until December 21st and then a winner will be chosen and the person nominated and the one who nominated them will both receive a Kindle! You only have to nominate a person once but you can nominate different people on different days if you want to. All you have to do to enter is comment on one of the Advent Calendar posts between now and then. But there are also daily giveaways of cool stuff too! Daily winners will be selected from that day's comments.

Yesterday's winner of a signed copy of Midnight Pearls is Tara Pennington. Congratulations! To enter today's giveaway, just comment below. Today's goodie is an excerpt from I Shall Not Want which was named one of the top 10 inspirational books of the year for 2010 by Booklist. Today's winner will receive a signed copy of I Shall Not Want. Here's your goodie:

1

Cindy Preston loved Fridays. Anything-can-happen Fridays was how she liked to think of them. As they neared the holidays, they became even more deserving of their name as First Shepherd church became a center of activity. Being a secretary at a church was a far more chaotic job than most people imagined.

For Cindy, the job had gotten even more exciting several months earlier when she had stumbled across a dead body in the church sanctuary. The week that followed had seen many people murdered by a serial killer, one whom Cindy had helped stop.

For a couple of months afterward, the church had seen a large swell in attendance as people wanted to come gawk at the woman who survived attack by the Passion Week killer and helped the police turn the tables on him.

Their interest had gradually waned, and aside from three new members who actually joined the church, things had pretty much returned to normal

The one unfortunate thing was that her friendship with Jeremiah, the rabbi at the synagogue next door, forged in shared danger slowly faded as well. They still exchanged pleasantries over the shrub hedge that separated the parking lots of the church and the synagogue, but not much else. It made sense, really. They shared nothing in common.

At first the return to normalcy had been a relief, a sanctuary from the days of terror she had lived through. Lately, though, she had felt a growing restlessness. In a fit of what could only have been insanity she had actually decided to do something daring with her weekend.

Of course as daring went, participating in a speed-dating event would rank low on most people's scales. To Cindy, though, it seemed bold and risky. She was always so selective about who she dated, thoroughly getting to know a guy before even considering spending time with him alone. Many people had told her it was paranoid, but it wasn't like she didn't have a reason. After all, the last man she ate dinner alone with turned out to be the very same one who killed the man whose body she found. A girl didn't get over that quickly.

No, anything-can-happen Fridays constituted her idea of big excitement. The most risk she normally wanted to take was showing up to work that day.

It was the week before Thanksgiving and people were starting to get that crazed look in their eyes that said Christmas was coming.

Poor Thanksgiving had been relegated to being the herald of Christmas, not even allowed to stand on its own as a holiday. What a shame. It was such an American custom and in a world that seemed on the verge of constant chaos people needed that oasis of time to contemplate what had gone before and to be grateful for having survived it one more year.

Geanie, the church's graphic artist, flopped down in the chair at her desk. Her red leather mini-skirt and black silk blouse might have looked odd on someone else, but on Geanie the look was almost elegant. By contrast with her long black skirt, white sweater, and sensible shoes Cindy felt boring.

The front door to the church opened and Joseph, one of the church's most prominent members and Pine Spring's most eligible bachelors, walked in. Clarice, a large white poodle, paced beside him. Joseph walked right up to her desk without hesitation and sank into the chair across from her. The dog lay down next to her master.

"How's it going?" she asked.

Joseph looked bone-tired but smiled in that way people did when the answer was "crappy" but they were too polite to say so.

"Fine."

"Are you all set for the big event?" Cindy asked.

He nodded and closed his eyes. "You're still coming tonight, right?"

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it. This is huge and I want to support it," Cindy said.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down."

In addition to all of his church activities and owning his own media empire, Joseph kept himself busy with charity work. His latest project, targeted at helping the homeless to improve their lives and find the inspiration and help to get back on their feet, was ambitious. Many critics said he was crazy, but Cindy believed in his idea. The church, along with all the others in the area, supported a local homeless shelter, and Cindy had frequent dealings with several of its regulars. After weeks of preparation, the program was going to be launched that evening on the lawn outside of Joseph's family mansion.

"How's it going, Clarice? I haven't seen you since you had your puppies."

Clarice looked at her and gave a slight shake of the head, rattling her dog tags.

"She needed a break so I brought her with me. Seven poodle puppies is enough to drive anyone insane. They're fast and clever. She and I have been chasing them all over the house this morning trying to get them corralled into one room."

Cindy bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the image. Instead she changed the subject back to the event. "Six o'clock, right?"

"It starts at six. Please tell me you'll be there before that."

"I'll head straight to your house from work. It should only take me about ten minutes."

"You are an angel," he said.

"Do you need me to bring anything?" she asked.

"A sense of humor. Somebody there tonight's got to have one or this could get really depressing really fast."

She couldn't help but laugh. "I'll do the best I can."

He stood abruptly. "That's all anyone can ask of us. Thanks, Cindy."

"You're welcome."

He waved to Geanie and then left the office.

"You should totally go out with him," Geanie said.

"Not my type."

"Yes, because tall, dark, and rich are sooo unattractive," Geanie said

"Why don't you go out with him? You're not seeing anyone, right?"

Geanie made a face and Cindy bit her lip. The younger woman was once again between boyfriends and didn't like it one bit.

When five o'clock rolled around, Cindy chased everyone out of the office, locked the door, and headed for her car. Ten minutes later she was driving up the hill to Joseph's house.

She rounded a curve and was surprised to see a dozen people lined up on either side of the road holding up signs.

Pets Deserve Safe Homes.

Keep Dogs Safe

Don't Jeopardize Lives for Your Ego.

Stop Being Part of the Problem.

Born Free Live Free.

Collars Are Cruel.

Free All Captive Animals!

A homeless man with ripped coat and dreadlocks jumped in front of her car waving a sign that read Food, NOT Frivolity! She slammed on her brakes. He pounded the hood of her car. A private security officer dragged him off.

Shaken, Cindy cautiously edged the car forward, eyes darting right and left and wondering who else was going to try and stop her. If the road had been wide enough, she would have turned around and gone back. It wasn't, though, so she kept going until she made it to the designated parking lot. She wedged her car in between a humane society vehicle and a news van and turned off the ignition.

Odds were good that once the event was over, the protestors would leave. After they left, she'd leave. Until then she was sure Joseph would need a hand cleaning up or something.

Reluctantly she got out of her car. She spotted a lot more people milling about, but none of them seemed to be holding up signs, though quite a few of them appeared homeless. Half a dozen large tents had been erected on the lawn with outdoor lights illuminating them. Several small paddocks were arranged with little portable fences. Inside a variety of dogs napped, ate, or played with each other.

Joseph stood on the lawn, Clarice beside him. Cindy walked up and tried not to interrupt as he issued orders to a caterer. After the woman hurried off, Cindy asked, "How are you holding up?"

Joseph turned and hugged her impulsively. Surprised, Cindy hugged him back but pulled away when she saw a flash go off from someone's camera.

"What do you need?" she asked. "I'm your go-to girl just so long as it has nothing to do with protestors."

"Agreed. Actually, if you could go inside and tell my assistant, Derek, to bring out Buford Augustus Reginald the III, that would be great."

"Who?" Cindy asked.

"It's a puppy."

"Oh, Buford . . . August—"

Joseph stopped her with a raised hand. "Just ask him to bring out Buff."

"Okay, I think I can handle that," Cindy said. "Any idea where Derek will be?"

"No, I've called his cell twice, but he's not picking up. His car's here, though, and he's not outside, so he must be in the house. Try my office, second floor, third door on the right, first."

"Got it," Cindy said, heading for the house.

The mansion was massive, built by Joseph's grandparents. She had been in it twice before for church functions. The foyer was empty.

"Derek?" Cindy called. It wasn't dignified but it would be a lot faster than searching the house. She headed up the stairs, listening.

"Derek!" she called again as she reached the landing.

She heard the sound of smashing glass, like somebody had dropped a water goblet. It was coming from the right hand side. She walked down the hall hoping she hadn't startled Derek into dropping something.

The third door on the right was ajar. She moved toward it.

"Sorry to startle you," she said, swinging the door open.

There was no one in the room. "Derek!" she called again.

She saw a cell phone on the desk and wondered if it was Derek's. She had seen Joseph's on his belt and he had said he'd been trying to call Derek. She moved toward the desk to grab the phone, and then turned. Her shoe crunched on something and she looked down. There was broken glass to the left of the desk and some shards seemed to have flown several feet in either direction.

I did hear glass breaking. But there's no one here. What in the world?

There was a large balcony behind the desk; the sheers fluttered in the breeze. Cindy walked around to the right of the desk.

As soon as she did, she saw Derek.

He was lying on his back, a pool of blood underneath his head, and his eyes fixed in a death stare at the ceiling. In his fist he clutched a dog's leash.

Cindy screamed and leaped backwards. She dropped the cell phone on the floor, dug through her purse, and got her own cell. She hit the speed dial button that still had Detective Mark Walters phone number programmed into it.

"It's Cindy Preston," she said as he answered the phone.

"Cindy? Why on earth are you calling me?"

"I'm at Joseph's house, remember, the guy who lives on the hill who loves dogs? Someone's been murdered."

"I'm on my way. I'll call it in. Make sure nobody touches anything."

"I will."

She heard footsteps racing up the stairs and down the hall. "Are you okay?" a familiar voice asked behind her. She spun around and stared at Jeremiah in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"The charity event, the synagogue is supporting it. What are you doing here?"

"So is First Shepherd. Joseph asked me to come."

Jeremiah moved slowly into the room, eyes roving. "Did you scream?"

"Yes," she said, coming to her senses after the surprise of seeing him there.

"What happened?"

"Well, it seems you've come to my rescue again," she said, her voice starting to quiver.

"I don't follow."

She nodded to the floor behind the desk and he moved closer. He stopped and she watched him as he looked the body over. At last he turned his eyes back to her. "You just found him?"

She nodded.

"You've got to be kidding me."

She shrugged her shoulders as tears started to spill down her cheeks. "It's anything-can-happen Friday."

Happy December 10th! The Kindle contest is still underway. Here's how it works: you nominate a friend/family member/coworker/etc. who you think needs a Kindle (tell us why they need/deserve one!) I'll be collecting entries until December 21st and then a winner will be chosen and the person nominated and the one who nominated them will both receive a Kindle! You only have to nominate a person once but you can nominate different people on different days if you want to. All you have to do to enter is comment on one of the Advent Calendar posts between now and then. But there are also daily giveaways of cool stuff too! Daily winners will be selected from that day's comments.

Yesterday's winner of a signed copy of Violet Eyes is Jen. Congratulations! To enter today's giveaway, just comment below. Today's goodie is an excerpt and some behind the scenes infro about Midnight Pearls, my retelling of The Little Mermaid. Today's winner will receive a signed copy of Midnight Pearls.

To read an excerpt of the book click here or to buy it click here.

Midnight Pearls was my first solo book. I wrote it while in the middle of writing the Wicked series with Nancy Holder. My original concept for the story was set in present day California at a marine animal park. A young adopted girl had an after school job there. She was also a member of a school swim team. She ends up discovering that she was born a mermaid, kidnapped, and changed into a human by the sea witch who has been waging war against her people. In the final version of the book Pearl lives in a fairy tale village with the fisherman who rescued her from the sea as a child and his wife. It was after I made this change that I came upon the idea of starting several of the chapters with a flash forward to events that happen at the end of the book. Between writing the Wicked books and this book I ended up picking up a particular style trait. Many of my books have some sort of header that goes with the chapter. For Wicked it's spells written as poems, for Crusade diary entries from the main character are interspersed with vampire propoganda poetry and excerpts from an ancient Hunter's Manual, for Kiss of Night it's Bible verses about blood.

When I have a book concept that's not working I often stop and think about Midnight Pearls and ask myself if there is something fundamental about the setting or the plot or one of the characters that I can change that will alleviate the problem. I've made a few adjustments to things because of this, but no book has changed so much from concept to publication as that book has. In fact, it seems that book is all about change. After all, the publisher keeps redesigning the cover and the version currently being sold is the third different cover for the book!

Happy December 9th! The Kindle contest is still underway. Here's how it works: you nominate a friend/family member/coworker/etc. who you think needs a Kindle (tell us why they need/deserve one!) I'll be collecting entries until December 21st and then a winner will be chosen and the person nominated and the one who nominated them will both receive a Kindle! You only have to nominate a person once but you can nominate different people on different days if you want to. All you have to do to enter is comment on one of the Advent Calendar posts between now and then. But there are also daily giveaways of cool stuff too! Daily winners will be selected from that day's comments.

Yesterday's winner of a signed copy of Kiss of Night is Beth Hsaygood. Congratulations! To enter today's giveaway, just comment below. Today's goodie is an excerpt from Violet Eyes and some insight on my future plans involving fairy tales. Today's winner will receive a signed copy of Violet Eyes. Here's your goodie:

To read an excerpt from Violet Eyes click here.

I love retold fairy tales. I've written versions of The Little Mermaid, Little Red Riding Hood, and The Princess and the Pea. My future plans do include more retold fairy tales although I'm trying to work out how exactly I want to do that. I've thought about continuing to write individual titles and I've also toyed with putting together my own anthology of retold fairy tales. Stories I'm particularly eager to do include: Hansel and Gretel, The Prince and the Pauper, and Goldilocks. I have titles picked out for all three of these stories, but that information is classified for now! My favorite story is Beauty and the Beast and someday I'd like to do a version of that one. Belle is my favorite Disney princess and that is my favorite Disney animated film. I'm a sucker for happy endings so I enjoy some of the modern adaptations that turn tragedies like The Little Mermaid into wonderful stories of love conquering all.

For Violet Eyes, a retelling of The Princess and the Pea, I did a lot of research and discovered that many, many cultures had their own version of this story. In fact, some of the other princesses and tests in Violet Eyes come from those other cultures! Many of these stories also contain an animal helper who befriends the princess. That's why I used the prince's dog as a courier carrying messages between the Prince and Violet.

Happy December 8th! The Kindle contest is still underway. Here's how it works: you nominate a friend/family member/coworker/etc. who you think needs a Kindle (tell us why they need/deserve one!) I'll be collecting entries until December 21st and then a winner will be chosen and the person nominated and the one who nominated them will both receive a Kindle! You only have to nominate a person once but you can nominate different people on different days if you want to. All you have to do to enter is comment on one of the Advent Calendar posts between now and then. But there are also daily giveaways of cool stuff too! Daily winners will be selected from that day's comments.

Yesterday's winner of a signed copy of Crusade is Mary Huff. Congratulations! To enter today's giveaway, just comment below. Today's goodie is the first chapter of Kiss of Night. Today's winner will receive a signed copy of Kiss of Night. Here's your goodie:

Chapter One

And almost all things are by the law purged with blood;

and without shedding of blood is no remission.

—Hebrews 9:22

The blood. It's all about the blood. Susan Lambert sank to her knees with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her city map of Prague slipped from her fingers unnoticed. She clutched her grandmother's antique silver cross and her hand tingled where skin touched metal. The floor around her was a crimson pool of light that was streaming from one of the stained-glass panels high overhead.

The panel showed the crucifixion and the light seemed to come from it instead of through it. That light painted the floor and pillars with brilliant colors. Her eyes fell back down to the bloodred light shining on the stone floor around her. The blood of Christ, she thought in awe.

She had been a long time coming to this city. She wished she could have come before it was too late, but at least she had made it. She tried to pray but was too overwhelmed by the beauty that surrounded her and the loss that tore at her heart.

She had come to the cathedral desperately needing to connect with God, to find the strength to survive the next few days. She had hoped to sense a bit of her grandmother's presence there as well. Her grandmother had spoken of the beauty of the cathedral she had often visited as a child and Susan had hoped to feel a connection with her one last time before the funeral. Then it would be too late. The cold, harsh reality would be undeniable and she'd be left with only her memories and her grief.

It seemed like all those she loved were taken from her so quickly. God and death were the only two constants in life, both unwavering. In the cathedral, though, she could focus on God and for a few precious moments forget about death.

She closed her eyes and thought about the blood of Christ, her grandmother's laugh, and a thousand other things. There was power and peace in St. Vitus Cathedral and she let them wash over her.

When at last she stood the colored light had retreated and the cathedral was being plunged bit by bit into darkness. It's as though all the light in the world is being extinguished, she thought. For some reason it unnerved her, watching as the light faded from all the windows and the shadows gathered, thick and deep and menacing in the corners. With the loss of the light all warmth seemed to flee as well and she could feel a deep cold settling into her bones. Like the grave, she thought with a shiver. She was exhausted and her grief was playing on the darker parts of her imagination. It would do her no good to dwell on the darkness.

She wiped her tears and turned to go. Her steps echoed loud on the stone floors and the sound pierced the fog of her pain. The cathedral looked empty, but it didn't feel that way. She half expected to hear some tired voice call out to her that it was time to leave, they were locking up for the night. Did they lock the cathedral or was it always open for those who needed a place to think and pray? She would have to ask. After the funeral she was sure she'd need a quiet retreat to pray. She took another half-dozen steps before the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

Something was watching her. She could feel it just as she had felt the overwhelming sense of peace before. Susan turned her head slowly, trying to pierce the gathering shadows, but could see nothing.

"Hello?" she called tentatively, suddenly afraid that someone might answer.

There was only silence. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her frayed nerves. She let it out slowly as she forced her tense muscles to relax. Nothing was going to hurt her. There was no one there but her.

You're not alone. The still, quiet voice deep inside had never lied and it had saved her life twice before. The familiar icy hand of fear coiled itself around her and she spun back to the front of the cathedral, terrified that something might be behind her.

There was no one there. Her eyes caught a splash of color, her forgotten city map on the ground. She quickly retrieved it. When she straightened up and turned back to the entrance she jerked to a halt with a startled gasp.

A man was standing there, in the exact spot she had been a moment before. He was tall. His hair was fair but in the light she couldn't determine the exact color. He wore a long black trench coat over black pants and shirt. If it weren't for his eyes she might have thought of him as just another of the shadows rapidly filling the room. His eyes were a brilliant blue that seemed to glow just as the stained-glass windows had. They looked at her; seemed to pierce her very soul.

He was standing between her and the exit. Her mind reeled, wondering why he was staring at her that way, and why the rest of his expression was impossible to read.

She blinked and he was gone. She turned in a quick circle but saw only shadows. Her left hand gripped her cross necklace, squeezing hard.

Susan realized she was taking shallow, rapid breaths and her heart began to pound even harder until she began to be light-headed.

You're bleeding. This time she couldn't tell if the voice was inside her head or outside. She glanced down and saw she had squeezed the cross so tightly that it had cut her skin. Drops of blood coated her grandmother's necklace and slowly dripped onto the floor. Where before there had been only colored light now there was actual blood.

She began to walk toward the exit, every step moving faster until she was running. She didn't care how foolish it might be, she just knew there was someone inside the cathedral with her and he terrified her more than she had ever dreamed possible.

Her boots made a hollow clopping sound against the stone. A dozen steps from the exit she could swear she felt a hand brush her shoulder. She screamed and, twisting, she shot through the open doorway and outside.

She came up short in the cold night air with a gasp. A couple walking nearby hurried past her, clearly thinking her crazy.

She paused a moment, two. No dark figure lunged out of the cathedral to grab her and even as she tried to fix his face in her memory she could feel it slipping, as though it had been only a dream the dawn chased away.

It's just my imagination. Too much has happened in the last few days, she told herself. She walked a few steps away from the door, thought about hailing a taxi, and then decided against it. Her hotel wasn't that far away and the walk might help clear her head.

And if there had been a man and he meant her harm, hopefully she could lose him on the streets. If she hailed a taxi then he might somehow overhear the address and she didn't want to wait here alone trying to flag one down. She was being paranoid and she knew it, but all the brochures she had read before departing had been emphatic that young women traveling alone should use extreme caution. That, coupled with all her grandmother's stories about gypsies who stole children in the middle of the night, had served to make her a basket case.

She had taken a half-dozen self-defense courses in college. That was little comfort at the moment, though, since she'd never had to apply any of what she'd learned to the real world. Mentally she rehearsed a few moves just in case.

As she began to walk, though, her fear began to ebb. Maybe the man had been a dream, or a hallucination brought on by extreme jet lag and grief. She forced her thoughts outward and she really began looking around her as she walked.

The city glistened like a jewel beneath the full moon. Its beauty was haunting, and Susan struggled to make herself focus on it. It was real. All of it. She was finally in Prague. Even as she marveled at some of the ancient buildings, though, she turned to glance over her shoulder every few steps, unable to shake the feeling that someone or something had followed her from the cathedral.

Every time she looked, though, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The shadows stayed where they should and the only people she saw were those going about their own business. If anything, she must look odd to them. After a few minutes she admitted to herself that she kept expecting to turn around and see him again, a hairsbreadth away, and have no idea how he had moved so close without her noticing.

She shivered. She tried to tell herself it was because she was in a strange city, one that had been given life in her imagination by what her grandmother had told her about growing up in Prague.

Susan had listened for hours as her grandmother spun tales of romance and mystery, mysticism and terror. They had gotten into her head that was all that had happened back at the church. Nothing strange had occurred. The truth was she had probably frightened off the poor man with her screaming. If there even was a man. She touched her grandmother's cross and grimaced as she felt the dried blood on it.

As hard as she tried, though, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her, and so it was with relief that she arrived back at the Grand Hotel Praha and ducked inside. She was meeting family in a half hour for dinner at U Zlaté konviceon, a Czech restaurant in the hotel's cellars. She hurried upstairs to the room she was going to be sharing with her cousin Wendy, when she arrived the next morning.

The room was nothing like she had expected, but given her grandmother's stories she shouldn't have been surprised. All the furniture was antique and beautiful. The ceiling was ornately carved. The bathroom was all marble and glistened beneath the lights. Out the window she had a view of Old Town Square including the Týn Church and the Astronomical Clock, Prague's most famous sight.

As though compelled, she moved again to the window and looked out on the city, now awash with lights beneath the night sky. Her grandmother had been right. It was a magical place. She could feel it deep inside, like a singing in her blood or a quickening in her soul.

"Anything can happen here," she whispered to herself.

She turned and moved to her suitcase, which she hadn't taken the time to unpack when she had gotten in. She had been too eager to see the cathedral her grandmother had always told her about. It had been her moment of solitude, peace, before everything that was coming.

She remembered what it had been like at her parents' funeral when she was twelve. There had been so many people and so much chaos and she had longed to be allowed to go to her room and find some quiet to try and pray and understand what had happened. Her family members had had other plans, though, and they made it their mission to keep her from being alone. Now she couldn't help but wonder what the next few days were going to bring, since her grandmother had raised her from that point forward.

She squared her shoulders. She was twenty-three now and she would just have to make her own needs clear. And if people wouldn't listen, well, she was going home three days after everyone else.

It was plenty of time to see the things she wanted to and to pay homage to her grandmother and bid her farewell in her own way. She wanted to return to the cathedral before she left.

And as she thought of the cathedral, she couldn't help but think about him. Who had he been that he had appeared and disappeared so quickly, without saying a word? She shivered slightly. There was something dangerous about him; how she knew that was a mystery to her, but she just knew.

Susan changed quickly into a simple blue sweater and black slacks, wishing she had brought a different dress beyond the one she would wear at the funeral. Then she made her way downstairs to the restaurant.

The restaurant was underground with vaulted ceilings and arches. Its rough rock walls were decorated with weapons, coats of arms, and murals of beheaded Czech lords. Wooden tables with simple wooden chairs reminded her that she was in a fourteenth-century alehouse.

One long table had been reserved for her family and she discovered she was not the first to arrive as Aunt Jane and Uncle Bob waved her over. They exchanged brief hugs and then settled back into their chairs to wait for the others.

"How are you holding up?" Jane asked.

"I'm okay," Susan said. "And you?"

"I'm going to miss Mom terribly, but at least she's in a better place."

"Although I'm sure she would have liked to see us all here," Bob said gruffly. "She loved this city."

Susan nodded. "I was always surprised she didn't ever try to move back, or at least take an extended trip."

"She was too concerned with her responsibilities at home," Jane said.

Responsibilities. As in me. Susan shook her head, unwilling to believe that she had kept her grandmother from returning to the home she loved, especially since she had left for college at eighteen and had lived on her own since.

Before she could say anything, the others began to arrive and soon she was hugging friends and family, some of whom she hadn't seen since that last funeral.

Her grandmother had managed her own funeral arrangements so that not only could she be buried in Prague but also all those close to her would have airfare paid for. Prague had been important to her. Family had been even more important.

When everyone was settled Susan had a chance to look at the menu. She was surprised at the number of choices, running the gamut from roast duck to schnitzel. She finally settled on the sirloin in cream sauce with cranberries and dumplings.

"How would you like your sirloin?" the waitress asked.

Bloody.

"Bloody," she heard herself saying then stopped, blinking. Why had she said that? She liked her steaks medium. She picked up her water and took a long drink. She was definitely suffering from jet lag and it must be affecting her more than she suspected.

When she put her water glass down she glanced across the room and gasped. The man from earlier was standing in the doorway, watching her. She blinked and he vanished. She sat for a moment, stunned. Had she imagined it? She was filled with an overwhelming need to know who he was or if he was even real and not some figment of her imagination.

She bolted up from the table and ran to where he had been standing, then looked up and down the hallway but saw no sign of him. Frustration filled her, but also a trickling of relief. Maybe she was seeing things. She shook her head hard and turned away.

When she rejoined her family they were regarding her with open curiosity.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I thought I saw…never mind."

Her uncle patted her on the shoulder and then conversation around the table resumed. The food was delicious and she found that she actually liked the steak rare. As the meal went on, though, she struggled to focus on the people and conversations around her. She yawned all the way through dessert and by then had completely convinced herself that her overtired brain was indeed playing tricks on her.

After they toasted Grandma Constance at the end, no one seemed inclined to leave, and everyone lingered around the table telling stories about Constance and sharing tears.

"I have to get some sleep," Susan said, finally standing up.

"I'll walk with you," her great-uncle Clarence said.

Susan tried to protest, but he held up a hand. Clarence was her grandmother's youngest brother and had just turned sixty three months before. His birthday was the last time the family had been together, to celebrate. Now they were gathered to mourn.

As soon as they left the restaurant he turned to her. "You mustn't let them bother you, my dear. She was a great spirit, and she will be missed, but especially by those of us who knew her well."

"Yes, she will."

"Most didn't understand her. She'd drive a hundred miles if she thought a stranger needed her prayers. She'd look at things completely different than other people and sometimes when the whole world, when every logical thought said to turn right she'd turn left."

"I remember. It always ended up being the best thing."

"I think you're a lot like her in that regard," he said, looking shrewdly at her. "I remember that day when, for no apparent reason, you refused to leave Constance's house. Your parents let you spend the night…"

He didn't have to continue. They both knew very well what had happened. Her parents had been killed in a car crash on the way home. She had spent untold sleepless nights wishing she could have gotten them to stay with her that night. But they had left and she was alive because they had let her stay.

Susan nodded, not sure what to say. They arrived at her room and she hugged him good night. He put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. "She did come back here. I'm the only one who knows, but she did come back to Prague, twice."

Startled, she looked at him. "When? Why didn't she tell people?"

He smiled at her. "Those are stories for another time. For tonight, sleep well."

He turned and walked away leaving her with burning questions and a deep sense of relief that her grandmother had been able to see the city she loved before she died.

She entered her room, locking the door behind her. When she turned around, she started as her eyes fell on the bed. In the middle of her pillow was a single red rose.

Happy December 7th! The Kindle contest is still underway. Here's how it works: you nominate a friend/family member/coworker/etc. who you think needs a Kindle (tell us why they need/deserve one!) I'll be collecting entries until December 21st and then a winner will be chosen and the person nominated and the one who nominated them will both receive a Kindle! All you have to do to enter is comment on one of the Advent Calendar posts between now and then. But there are also daily giveaways of cool stuff too! Daily winners will be selected from that day's comments.

Yesterday's winner of a signed copy of The Summer of Cotton Candy is Sarah Kalaitzidis. Congratulations! To enter today's giveaway, just comment below. Today's goodie is the first chapter of Crusade. Today's winner will receive a signed copy of Crusade.

To check out the first chapter of Crusade for free. Click here!

Happy December 6th! The Kindle contest is still underway. Here's how it works: you nominate a friend/family member/coworker/etc. who you think needs a Kindle (tell us why they need/deserve one!) I'll be collecting entries until December 21st and then a winner will be chosen and the person nominated and the one who nominated them will both receive a Kindle! All you have to do to enter is comment on one of the Advent Calendar posts between now and then. But there are also daily giveaways of cool stuff too! Daily winners will be selected from that day's comments.

Yesterday's winner of a signed copy of The Lord is My Shepherd is Juana Andrade. Congratulations! To enter today's giveaway, just comment below. Today's goodie is some behind the scenes stuff about the Sweet Seasons series. Today's winner will receive a signed copy of The Summer of Cotton Candy. To read an excerpt from The Summer of Cotton Candy click here. Here's your goodie:

A lot of people ask me if there will be more Sweet Seasons books. The answer is still "maybe". The publisher has designed new covers for the existing books and might be releasing those covers soon. What publishers are basically interested in is numbers. If a series sells well enough the chances that it will continue go up dramatically. For those of you who've been patiently waiting, please be patient a little longer and help spread the word about these books. I can tell you that I've had the titles for the next four books picked out since I finished writing book 4. The next four books would be: The Summer of Rice Candy, The Fall of Candied Yams, The Winter of Candy Kisses, and The Spring of Rock Candy.

I do hope and dream to someday actually build The Zone theme park in reality. I've had some concept sketches made of the park and some of its key attractions. Here's my favorite, it's a sketch of The Atomic Coaster (which Referees call The Twirl and Hurl).

And here is what the new cover of The Summer of Cotton Candy will look like if the publisher goes ahead and reissues it.

Happy December 5th! The Kindle contest is still underway. In case this is your first time hearing about it, here's how it works: you nominate a friend/family member/coworker/etc. who you think needs a Kindle (tell us why they need/deserve one!) I'll be collecting entries until December 21st and then a winner will be chosen and the person nominated and the one who nominated them will both receive a Kindle! All you have to do to enter is comment on one of the Advent Calendar posts between now and then. But there are also daily giveaways of cool stuff too! Daily winners will be selected from that day's comments.

Yesterday's winner of a signed copy of Scarlet Moon is Samantha Ramos. Congratulations! To enter today's giveaway, just comment below. Today's goodie is an excerpt from my novel, The Lord is My Shepherd. Today's winning comment will receive an autographed copy of The Lord is My Shepherd! Good luck, everyone, and here's your goodie:

More than anything, Cindy Preston hated Mondays. As a kid Mondays meant that it was time to stop playing and go back to school. They were the day that her dad always left home on business trips, which he did a lot. On Mondays she had to take drama classes because her brother did, and anything he did she had to do too. She never got to act. Kyle always overshadowed her. Instead, she helped construct the stages he strutted around on.

As an adult, Mondays were even worse. Returning to any job wasn't pleasant after a weekend of freedom. But you could double that since she worked at a church, which meant Mondays were hell.

Of course, "hell" wasn't a word Cindy would use at church, unless she was talking literally about the place and its demonic denizens. She'd had a lifetime of paranoia pounded into her by her mother. "You don't curse at church. You don't fall asleep during the sermon. You don't look at boys. You don't wear slacks."

Cindy knew exactly what couldn't be done at church, but she always felt a little unsure about what you could do. The first time a friend invited her to a Pentecostal service Cindy had spent the entire time telling people to put their hands down, because she was just sure you couldn't do that in church.

Cindy smiled grimly as she pulled into the parking lot of First Shepherd. She might not know what she could do at church, but she did know that in a pinch she could work there. Even if that meant she had to wear skirts and dresses every day. Slacks still didn't feel right in a sanctuary. She turned off the engine and leaned her head back for a minute, closing her eyes.

"God help me."

Cindy had never had a job that was so rewarding or half as exasperating. At any ordinary job you could leave on Friday, lock the door behind you, and come back on Monday morning and expect to find things where you left them. Not so much when you worked at a church.

Last Monday had been one of the worst days yet. They were preparing for Easter week, one of the busiest times of the year with extra services, programs, and special events. As if that hadn't been enough, the church's furnace had quit working, someone had broken a key off in the nursery room door lock, one of the women's bathrooms had flooded, and her binder of master calendars and room assignments had somehow found its way from her desk to the pulpit.

Cindy contemplated sitting in her car until everyone else showed up for work. An extra half hour of quiet sounded good, but she knew she couldn't sit there. The one advantage of arriving first was the chance to assess the damage before anyone else, especially Pastor Roy, showed up and freaked out.

Maybe if everything is quiet I can play a quick game of solitaire.

She got out of her car and walked toward the main gate that shut off the parking lot from the church buildings. With her left hand she slid a deck of cards out of her purse and shuffled them with one hand. She'd learned the trick in junior high, and it always calmed her down.

Please, God, let the soda machine not be empty.

Given that the high school youth group had a big outreach the night before, only God Himself could have left a can in the machine for her.

When she inserted her key in the gate's lock and twisted, it didn't click. Cindy stood for a moment, puzzled, before she pushed open the unlocked door.

"Somebody's in trouble," she muttered. Staff rarely forgot to lock the gate at night.

"Hello, anyone here?" she called as she stepped into the courtyard. No reply. She hesitated for a moment. The silence was always disturbing early in the morning, especially after the noise and clamor of Sunday services. She glanced around uneasily but didn't see anyone.

Cindy headed straight across the open breezeway toward the sanctuary, sticking to her normal routine. She shuffled the cards with her left hand faster and faster and prayed that the women's room wasn't flooded again. Without breaking stride, she scooped up a small piece of paper from the ground near the door and stuffed it in her coat pocket, intending to throw it away in the office.

She unlocked the sanctuary door, stepped inside, and moved along the wall toward the bank of light switches, which some "art-over-practicality" architect had discretely positioned beneath a portrait of Jesus twenty feet from the door. In the darkness her foot caught on something soft and out of place, and she crashed to the floor, smacking her elbows and one knee. Her cards flew from her hand, and she could hear them flutter down around her.

Now what? What had the youth group kids done to the sanctuary this time? Cindy scrambled to her feet only to feel her twisted knee give out from under her, and she fell against the wall. Her shaking hand reached out and caught the light switch. With a loud clunk, the overhead lights slowly came on, and she turned around to see what she had tripped over.

A man, wearing a long black coat, lay sprawled on the ground. Half a dozen of her cards had landed on him, but he didn't move. Cindy jumped backward, hand pressed to her chest.

"Oh! Sir, are you all right?"

As she approached him carefully, he still didn't move. Cindy bent down and shook his leg, like she had learned once in a first-aid class. Did he have a heart attack?

When he didn't move she took hold of his shoulder and rolled him onto his back. She gasped when her eyes met his vacant stare. One look at those eyes and she knew he was dead. She had seen that look before, eyes just like that, open and frozen. Then she saw the knife sticking out of his chest.

Cindy screamed and jumped backward, slamming into a pew. Her injured knee buckled, and she collapsed to the floor, still screaming.

The empty church sanctuary caught the sounds of her screams and bounced them around the high-ceiling room. Her own voice was all she could hear. The body was the only thing she could see. The coppery smell of blood nearly overwhelmed her.

Something flashed in the open doorway six feet away. A dark figure seemed to fly across the threshold, landed next to her, and rolled to a stop on one knee. His eyes blazed like black flame, and his black hair framed the murderous face of a devil.

Cindy screamed louder and tried to push away from her position on the floor, but her hand slipped on the glossy surface of a playing card and she fell onto the man-devil's shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and with the other he pulled her head down to his chest. She struggled against him, but he held her so tightly she couldn't free herself.

I don't want to die! She pummeled him with her free fist.

Through the haze of terror that enveloped her, she heard him speak. "I'm Jeremiah, the rabbi from next door. You're safe."

Safe. Safe. The word rattled around in her brain until she finally remembered its meaning. No one is ever safe. She stopped screaming, but her body shook with gulping sobs. With her head pressed to his chest she could no longer see the body on the floor. She forced herself to take deep breaths.

The rabbi shifted slightly and let go of the back of her head. She heard him dialing three digits on a cell phone: 9-1-1.

"Yes, this is Jeremiah Silverman. I'm at the Presbyterian church on the corner of Main and Lincoln in Pine Springs. I'm in the sanctuary with a lady who just found a dead body here. Send the police. Yes. Yes. That's correct. Thank you."

"The police are on their way," he said still hanging on to his cell. His voice was calm and soothing.

She nodded.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt at all?" he asked.

"My arm hurts and my knees from when I tripped," Cindy said. She forced out each word through chattering teeth.

"I think you're okay. You're just in shock."

Of course she was in shock. She remembered how it felt. It was one of the only things she remembered about that day when she was fifteen and saw her first dead body.

"Let me help you up," Jeremiah said.

Some morbid part of her wanted to look at the body again, to reassure herself that it was no one she knew. The rest of her was quite sure she'd never forget what she had seen.

I'm going to be sick. She stumbled a few feet away from the rabbi.

"Hold on. Where are you going?"

"I need to get out of here," she said.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Wait until the police get here. In the meantime, this will keep you a little warmer." Jeremiah slipped his coat around her shoulders. "Put your arms into the sleeves."

"He's dead, right?" She knew the man was dead. Eyes didn't lie, and the dead man's eyes told her everything. Still, she needed to hear it, needed to know that she was right. Needed for someone else to acknowledge it.

"Yes, he's dead." Jeremiah's voice was calm and authoritative.

Cindy nodded. He put his arms around her, and she gladly leaned into him again. They slid to the floor against the back pew to wait for help.