New release sample: THE LIVING PROOF GETS THE BLUES

 

"This looks like a job for guardians," Ford said, leaning over my shoulder. He followed the deacons before the crowd surged back to their positions. I looked at Mum, who was standing next to me, looking especially demure that day with navy blue hair and a long, silvery-white shirt over denim capris. She rolled her eyes and nodded, and I turned my wheelchair to follow Ford.

"Well, let's get on with the Lord's business," Pastor Rocky said as I gave my chair a mental push, to let me catch up with the deacons. They were heading for the grassy amphitheater on the other side of the parking lot. "If Dave and Mercy are willing to trust me?" he added, with a nod to Tami Lee's parents. 

That got some people chuckling. I felt the tension ratcheting down behind me. Then a shiver of apprehension got me pushing with my arms, to save my telekinetic strength for any emergency handling of the nutcase. I caught a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye and turned my head enough to see Angela and Ethan following me. He had his phone out, and I didn't doubt he was calling more guardians.

Off the Bookshelf: ROMANOV, by Nadine Brandes

 

Audiobook

Think you know the story of the Romanovs? Have your own private theory of who survived the slaughter by the Bolsheviks, and how? Do you think Anastasia survived, and the woman who claimed to be her was telling the truth?

Doesn't matter, because that's not this story. (sorry, couldn't resist)

Nadine Brandes comes up with a quiet, sad, enthralling reimagining of the last days of the royal family of Russia, how they might have endured exile and captivity with spiritual faith and nobility ... and how things might have been very different if they had had some magic available.

Or, in this case, not available. The story is told through Anastasia's eyes. She is entrusted by her father with the mission of getting her hands on a matryoshka -- a Russian nesting doll. Each doll holds a spell, and one of those spells, or several, could help their family escape. Or, at the moment of crisis, survive the firing squad.

The problem is opening the dolls. The bigger  problem is getting her hands on the doll set, when it is confiscated by the commander of their guards. An even bigger problem is that magic is outlawed by Lenin and his followers, and the spell masters, who write spells with magic spell ink, are being hunted down and executed, if they don't employ their skill for the benefit of the Bolsheviks.

Anastasia has a little skill using spell ink, and desperately needs some to write spells to help her hemophiliac brother, Alexi. She suffers when he suffers, and her frustration and wavering faith and mischievous nature and determination to best the enemy even while under their power carry the story along.

Heartbreaking, breathtaking, broken by moments of, "No, Nastya, don't do that!" A definite "you'll be glad you read this one."

New release sample: THE LIVING PROOF GETS THE BLUES

 Tass bombed through the crowd. We found out later he pushed a couple people aside hard enough they fell into other people, kind of like a chain reaction of dominos.

"For shame!" he roared, his voice rising to a shriek while adding six syllables to "shame." "For shame! Who are the misguided parents of this innocent child who is about to be lowered into the waters of false repentance, to be condemned to spiritual death? How dare you abuse your child so?"

He was about to splash into the water, and I wouldn't have been surprised if he blamed Pastor Rocky because he didn't walk on the water. The deacons leaped forward like this was a move they had practiced for years, with my Pop and Chief Tanner leading the way. They became a wall dividing Pastor Rocky and Tami from Tass. Then they surrounded him. Those were brave men, because there was just something sweaty, slimy-looking, and plague-carrying about the man in his designer suit that made Herb Tarlek of WKRP look like a fashion plate. It had to be a designer suit because I couldn't imagine any clothing manufacturer risking its reputation on producing more than one of those things, in neon orange and brown plaid, glossy like he was covered in oil. Who would wear a three-piece suit like that in the 90-plus-degree August weather? 

Somehow, those twelve men hustled Tass off the beach, past the snack shack, and across the parking lot, short-circuiting his shrieks into stammers. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, but I bet the Red Sea didn't snicker and whisper as it parted before Moses. I was willing to believe God temporarily granted all of them superhero powers, like telekinesis, or maybe just a force field that protected them from physical contact. Or maybe it was the badge Chief Tanner flashed in the wacko's face, close enough it could have gone down his throat if he had kept his mouth open long enough.

New release sample: THE LIVING PROOF GETS THE BLUES

 

Sunday afternoon, self-anointed Rev. Earnest B. Tass attacked our Sunday school picnic.

We were at the swimming hole area of the Metroparks, rather than on the church property, combining our church Olympics competition with a rib cook-off and baptism service. Later, after studying security videos from businesses around town, we realized that not only were the BoBs that got into town stopped at the edge of church property, but so was Tass.

He couldn't step foot onto Neighborlee Gospel Church property, any more than he was able to get past the gate of Divine's Emporium. Talk about holy ground being a real, defensive phenomenon. 

Pastor Rocky stepped onto the sand of the little beach between the snack shack and the swimming hole, and held out a hand to Tami Lee Trumble, who was about to be baptized. He had on boat shoes, and walked right into the water, wearing baggy swimming shorts and a muscle shirt. Tami's parents were standing to the right, holding a beach towel and waiting for her to come up out of the water, and the deacons were standing to the left, with my Pop holding a towel for Pastor Rocky. I had a front row seat, with my wheelchair right on the edge of the grass, because sand wasn't too friendly to my wheels.

Of the Bookshelf: ENCHANTED EVER AFTER, by Shanna Swendson

 

Enchanted Inc., #9

Lovely, fun, frantic, snarky ending to a totally fun series. Which means it's kind of depressing, too.  Marriage is NOT the end of the story.

Please, please, please, Shanna ... come back in a few years and tell us the trials and tribulations of a magical immune mommy to a magically hyper-gifted toddler or two?

Katie and Owen are finally heading for the altar. The race is on to find the perfect wedding dress and pick out their decorations and food. And oh, yeah, stop a sudden upsurge of anti-magical blogs and support groups and someone who is out to "out" the magical community and apparently put all the blame on Owen. It'd be fine if this was a perfect world and the magical community could just come out from behind their illusions and say hey, we're here, let's get along. But no, some of the people who are hunting for them want them controlled and consider them dangerous. (Can we say shades of the political situation in the first X-Men movies?) 

But our fearless (sometimes) and determine Katie is now working in security for MSI, and she's on the case. In between tasting cake and searching for the perfect wedding reception band that won't enchant everyone ....

Fun! One of these days, when I'm kinda-sorta caught up on my Do list, I'm gonna take a week and read the entire series from one end to the other, just to relive all the fun and silliness and snark and adventure and *gasp* and giggle moments.

Thanks, Shanna. It's been a fun ride. And it was over far too soon. (For me, at least!)

New release sample: THE LIVING PROOF GETS THE BLUES

 "Yeah, that's a complication, but it goes back to the whole prayers thing. Maybe he's invisible to the enemy. They know enough about him to link him with the band. Remember, that article gives his name and location. Whoever caused the accident thought he was on that bus." He shrugged. "Yeah, I know there are logic holes, but that's the only thing that even makes halfway sense."

We all agreed. Mostly that there were logic holes big enough to drive the Enterprise through. But if those were doppelgangers and not some impersonators hired by the rest of Magna Magma to make the fans happy, then Pastor Rocky's contribution to protecting our town had to be the driving factor for the attack.

London and Sherwood found a few relatives of each of the members of Magna Magma, but couldn't verify if they had any recent contact with them. They found some ex-wives and estranged children, but again, very little evidence that there had been contact in the last ten years. Which was kind of sad. Wasn't there anyone who mourned them, other than Pastor Rocky and Father Marty? Well, yeah, the fans. The people who had bought tickets for concerts that would never take place. The rabid Lavaheads who were screaming about conspiracies and gathering their resources to sue the city and county and state where the accident had taken place, scrambling to find someone to blame.

After five days, rumors started floating to the top of all the Internet chatter. Bodies had vanished from the morgue. Then the rumors said some of the bodies hadn't been dead, but the police had lied to protect the survivors. Then other rumors said the survivors had been spirited away to protective custody, that they had seen something dangerous. Now the search was on to identify who had survived, who had attacked the band's bus, and who was the enemy.

New release sample: THE LIVING PROOF GETS THE BLUES

 

"Big Ugly doesn't slap at anybody unless they're a threat," I said, more thinking aloud than offering something he didn't already know. "What did Pastor do to get attention and make himself a target?"

Ford came up with the possible answer. We weren't able to get the guardians together and meet with Angela at Divine's Emporium until that evening. I had to get to work, and Daniel had some meetings for the company. I wrote up a report and London took care of getting it out to the guardians, along with our questions and theories, and linked everyone to all the articles on the Magna Magma concerts and the crash. Everyone had the same information, and we all had most of the day to think about the questions. Ford didn't even wait until everyone was gathered in the backyard behind Divine's.

"The prayer vigil," Ford said. "It interfered with those crazy welcome signs, finagling the whole requirement that the enemy has to be welcomed, invited inside. The cyber kids even told us that the shield got stronger during the times that matched up with the prayer vigils at church. People were praying to protect our town. Big Ugly or whoever arranged for those signs has put a target on Rocky, because he's getting in their way."

"But why go to all the trouble of killing the entire band? And halfway across the country?" Arthur Sheridan said. "Don't they know Pastor Rocky is right here, within reach?"