The Blood sugar Solution by Mark Hyman First Chapter Peak

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Mark Hyman, M.D.

and the book:

The Blood Sugar Solution: The UltraHealthy Program for Losing Weight, Preventing Disease, and Feeling Great Now!

Little, Brown and Company; 1 edition (February 28, 2012)

***Special thanks to Rick Roberson The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

An internationally respected physician, researcher, educator, activist, and five-time New York Times best-selling author, including The Blood Sugar Solution (also a PBS special), The UltraMind Solution (also a PBS special), The UltraSimple Diet, UltraMetabolism, and UltraPrevention (winner of the Books for a Better Life Award), Dr. Hyman has dedicated his life and career to ensuring optimal health - UltraWellness - for all individuals. His new book and PBS special, The Blood Sugar Solution, will be released March 2012 to address the global epidemic of obesity, diabetes, and cardiovascular and other related diseases.

His revolutionary "secret" to achieving UltraWellness? Dr. Hyman is the world's leading pioneer and practitioner of a ground-breaking and emerging approach to medicine that treats our system, not our symptoms. This new health paradigm is a systems-based, patient-centered method (called Functional Medicine) to preventing and treating disease and promoting health that works on two intertwined platforms: identifying and addressing the underlying causes of disease instead of just managing and masking symptoms and employing emerging trends in science and medicine, and integrative medicine.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

In the new #1 New York Times bestseller, The Blood Sugar Solution (Little, Brown and Company February, 2012), Dr. Mark Hyman - Chairman of the Institute for Functional Medicine and founder and medical director of The UltraWellness Center - reveals the secret to losing weight and preventing diabesity. According to Dr. Hyman, a staggering one in two Americans suffers from diabesity, the condition of metabolic imbalance and disease that ranges from mild blood sugar imbalance to full-blown diabetes. Diabesity is one of the leading causes of chronic disease in the 21st century, including heart disease, stroke, dementia, and cancer, and the numbers of sick people keep growing. One in three children born today will have diabetes. We are now raising the first generation of Americans to live sicker and die younger than their parents.

Genre: Health & Fitness

Product Details:
List Price: $27.99

Hardcover: 448 pages
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company; 1 edition (February 28, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 031612737X
ISBN-13: 978-0316127370

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Introduction

Diabesity: What You Don't Know May Kill You

What's in a name: insulin resistance, metabolic syndrome, syndrome X, obesity, pre-diabetes, adult-onset diabetes, type 2 diabetes. These are all essentially one problem; some vary by severity but all can have deadly consequences. The diagnosis and treatment of the underlying causes that drive all these conditions are actually the same.

Diabesity is a more comprehensive term to describe the continuum from optimal blood sugar balance toward insulin resistance and full-blown diabetes. If you answered yes to any of the questions in the quiz on page xxi, you may already have diabesity.

Nearly all people who are overweight (over 70 percent of adult Americans) already have “pre-diabetes” and have significant risks of disease and death. They just don't know it. Even worse, while the word “diabesity” is made up of the concepts of obesity and diabetes, even those who aren't overweight can have this problem. These are the “skinny fat” people. They are “underlean” (not enough muscle) instead of “overweight” and have a little extra weight around the middle, or “belly fat.” Currently there are no national screening recommendations, no treatment guidelines, no approved medications, and no reimbursement to health care providers for diagnosing and treating anything other than full-blown diabetes. Think about that. Doctors are not expected, trained, or paid to diagnose and treat the single biggest chronic disease in America, which, along with smoking, causes nearly all the major health care burdens of the twenty-first century, including heart disease, stroke, dementia, and even cancer. But here is the good news--there is a scientifically proven solution that I have mapped out for you in this book.

Our current medical practice has not caught up with our knowledge. In 2008, the American College of Endocrinology and the American Association of Clinical Endocrinologists gathered twenty-two experts and reviewed all the scientific data on pre-diabetes and diabetes. They heralded a wake-up clarion call for individuals, the health care community, and governments around the world.¹ Their conclusions were as follows:

The diagnosis of pre-diabetes and diabetes is arbitrary. A fasting blood sugar over 100 mg/dl is considered pre-diabetes, and a blood sugar over 126 mg/dl is considered diabetes. However, they found these cutoffs don't reflect the whole spectrum of risk-- including heart disease, cancer, dementia, stroke, and even kidneyand nervedamage--whichstartsat much lower numbers, numbers most people consider normal.

The DECODE study of 22,000 people² examined the continuum of risk measured not by fasting blood sugar, but by blood sugar after a big sugar drink (the best way to diagnose the problem). The study found that even starting at blood sugar levels that were perfectly normal (95 mg/dl), there was a steady and significant risk of heart disease and complications well below the accepted abnormal of less than 140 mg/dl for pre-diabetes and long before people reached the diabetic cutoff of 200 mg/dl.

Bottom line: Even if you have perfectly normal blood sugar, you may be sitting on a hidden time bomb of disease called diabesity, which prevents you from losing weight and living a long healthy life. Insulin resistance is the major cause of aging and death in the developed and most of the developing world. This book will help you identify and reverse this explosive situation for yourself. It also lays out a comprehensive action plan for greater collective action to solve this problem individually and collectively by getting healthy together.

Part I

Understanding The Modern Plague

For this we must make automatic and habitual, as early as possible, as many useful actions as we can, and guard against the growing into ways that are likely to be disadvantageous to us, as we should guard against the plague.

-- William James,

“The Laws of Habit,” The Popular Science Monthly (February 1887)

It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.

-- Mark Twain

1

a Hidden epidemic: The United States of Diabetes

Diabesity, the continuum of health problems ranging from mild insulin resistance and overweight to obesity and diabetes, is the single biggest global health epidemic of our time. It is one of the leading causes of heart disease, dementia, cancer, and premature death in the world and is almost entirely caused by environmental and lifestyle factors. This means that it is almost 100 percent preventable and curable.

Diabesity affects over 1.7 billion people worldwide. Scientists conservatively estimate it will affect 1 in 2 Americans by 2020, 90 percent of whom will not be diagnosed. I believe it already affects more than 1 in 2 Americans and up to 70-80 percent of some populations.

Obesity (almost always related to diabesity) is the leading cause of preventable death in the United States and around the world. Gaining just 11-16 pounds doubles the risk of type 2 diabetes, while gaining 17-24 pounds triples the risk. Despite this, there are no national recommendations from government or key organizations advising screening or treatment for pre-diabetes. We are becoming the United States of Diabetes.

The prevalence of type 2 diabetes in America has tripled since the 1980s. In 2010 there were 27 million Americans with diabetes (25 percent of whom were not diagnosed) and 67 million with pre-diabetes (90 percent of whom were not diagnosed). African-Americans, Latin Americans, and Asians have dramatically higher rates of diabesity than Caucasians do.¹ By 2015, 2.3 billion people worldwide will be overweight and 700 million will be obese. The number of diabetics will increase from 1 in 10 Americans today to 1 in 3 by the middle of this century.

A Childhood Problem

Perhaps most disturbing, our children are increasingly affected by this epidemic. We are raising the first generation of Americans to live sicker and die younger than their parents. Life expectancy is actually declining for the first time in human history.

Here are some startling statistics:

One in three children is overweight in America.

Childhood obesity has tripled from 1980 to 2010.

There are now more than 2 million morbidly obese children above the 99th percentile in weight.

In New York City, 40 percent of the children are overweight or obese.

One in three children born today will have diabetes in their lifetime.

Childhood obesity will have more impact on the life expectancy of children than all childhood cancers combined.

A Global Problem

Diabetes is just as widespread in other parts of the world: In 2007, it was estimated that 240 million people worldwide had diabetes. It is projected to affect 380 million by the year 2030, about 10 times the number of people affected by HIV/AIDS.² Sadly this is a gross underestimate. Estimates in 2011 put the worldwide total at 350 million. In China alone, rates of diabetes were almost zero 25 years ago. In 2007, there were 24 million diabetics in China, and scientists projected that by 2030 there would be 42 million diabetics in China. However, by 2010, there were 93 million diabetics and 148 million pre-diabetics in China,

Special Note: Childhood Obesity and Diabetes --The Blood Sugar Solution for Children

The biggest tragedy is the global spread of childhood obesity and “adult”onset or type 2 diabetes in little children. We are now seeing eight-year-old children with diabetes, fifteen-year-olds with strokes, and twenty-five-yearolds who need cardiac bypass. While The Blood Sugar Solution is a program mostly for adults, it is also powerful and effective for children. The whole family must be part of the solution, and we have to make our homes, communities, and schools safe for our children.

The Blood Sugar Solution includes many child-friendly recipes. And when it comes to supplements, there is something for everyone, even infants and children. In fact, any child over twelve years of age with diabesity can follow the basic Blood Sugar Solution plan. Children younger than twelve or those who qualify for the Advanced Plan should work with an experienced functional medicine practitioner. See www.bloodsugarsolution.com for how best to support your children's health if they are overweight or have type 2 diabetes.

almost all of whom were previously undiagnosed. Imagine if we had 148 million new cases of AIDS overnight in one country.

Sixty percent of the world's diabetics will eventually come from Asia because it is the world's most populous region. The number of individuals with impaired glucose tolerance or pre-diabetes will increase substantially because of increased genetic susceptibility to the harmful effects of sugar and processed foods. Interestingly, people in this Asian population (who are uniquely susceptible to diabetes even though they may not be obese) are increasingly affected as they adopt a more Western diet. Weaker environmental laws and regulations also expose them to increasing levels of toxins, which, as we will see later, are a significant cause of diabesity.³

Ponder this: From 1983 to 2008, the number of people in the world with diabetes increased sevenfold, from 35 to 240 million. In just three years, from 2008 to 2011, we added another 110 million diabetics to our global population. Shouldn't the main question we ask be why is this happening? instead of what new drug can we find to treat it? Our approach must be novel, innovative, and widely applicable at low cost across all borders. Billions and billions have been wasted trying to find the “drug cure,” while the solution lies right under our nose. This is a lifestyle and environmental disease and won't be cured by a medication.

Diabesity: The major cause of chronic disease and decreased life expectancy.

Diabesity is one of the leading causes of chronic disease in the twenty-first century, including heart disease, stroke, dementia, and cancer.⁴

Consider the following:

One-third of all diabetics have documented heart disease.⁵

It is estimated that nearly everyone else with type 2 diabetes has undiagnosed cardiovascular disease.

People with diabetes are four times more likely to die from heart disease, and the rate of stroke is three to four times higher in this population.

Those with pre-diabetes are also four times more likely to die of heart disease.⁶ So having pre-diabetes isn't really “pre” anything in terms of risk.

There is a fourfold increased risk for dementia in diabetics.⁷ And pre-diabetes is a leading cause of “pre-dementia,” also known as mild cognitive impairment.

The link between obesity and cancer is well documented and is driven by insulin resistance.⁸

Diabesity is the leading cause of high blood pressure in our society. Seventy-five percent of those with diabetes have high blood pressure.

Diabesity is also the leading cause of liver failure from NASH (nonalcoholic steatohepatitis), also known as fatty liver. It affects 30 percent of our general population (about 90 million) and 70-90 percent of those who have diabesity. Those with fatty liver are at much greater risk of heart attack and death.⁹

Diabesity is an important cause of depression and mood disorders. Women with diabetes are 29 percent more likely to develop depression, and women who took insulin are 53 percent more likely to develop depression.¹⁰

Nervous system damage affects 60-70 percent of people with diabetes, leading to a loss of sensation in the hands and feet, slow digestion, carpal tunnel syndrome, sexual dysfunction, and other problems. Almost 30 percent of people age forty or older with diabetes have impaired sensation in their feet, and this frequently leads to amputations.

Diabesity is also the leading cause of blindness among people ages twenty to seventy-four.

Diabesity is the leading cause of kidney failure --accounting for 44 percent of new cases each year.

People with poorly controlled diabetes are three times more likely to have periodontal or severe gum disease.

A recent remarkable study published in the New England Journal of Medicine examining 123,205 deaths in 820,900 people found that diabetics died an average of six years earlier than nondiabetics and 40 percent of those did not die from heart disease or the usual diabetes-related causes.¹¹ They died from other complications not obviously related to diabetes, complications most wouldn't necessarily correlate with the disease. Yet it makes perfect sense given that diabesity is the underlying cause that drives most chronic illnesses.

Diabesity: A major global threat to economic development.

Direct health care costs in the United States over the next decade attributable to diabetes and pre-diabetes will be $3.4 trillion, or one in every ten health care dollars spent. Obese citizens cost the U.S. health care system 40 percent more than normal-weight citizens. In a sample of 10 million commercial health plan members, those without diabetes cost $4,000 a year compared to $11,700 for those with diabetes, and $20,700 for those with complications from diabetes.

Diabesity places a large economic burden on our society. The direct and indirect costs of diabetes in America in 2007 amounted to $174 billion. The cost of obesity is also significant, and amounts to $113 billion every year. From 2000 to 2010, these two conditions have already cost us a total of $3 trillion. That's three times the estimated cost of fixing our entire health care system!¹²

Are we getting our money's worth? Is our current approach winning the battle against these completely preventable and curable diseases? Clearly the answer is no!

The Impact of Diabesity on Developing Nations

Diabetes is not just a problem for rich countries with too much food; it is also a disease of poverty¹³ that is increasing in developing countries as well.¹⁴ In India, diabetes carries a greater risk of death than infectious disease. In the Middle East, nearly 20-25 percent of the population is diabetic. When I helped in Haiti (the poorest country in the Western hemisphere) after the earthquake in 2010, I asked the director of Haiti's main public hospital what the major medical problems were prior to the earthquake. His answer surprised me: heart disease, high blood pressure, and diabetes--all caused by diabesity.

By 2020, there will be fewer than 20 million deaths worldwide from infectious disease, but more than 50 million deaths from chronic preventable lifestyle diseases--heart disease, diabetes, and cancer. These are all fueled by the same preventable risk factors: high blood pressure, overweight, physical inactivity, high blood sugar, high cholesterol, and smoking. But strikingly, 95 percent of private and public efforts and funding focus almost exclusively on combating communicable or infectious disease.¹⁵

The Solution: Take Back Our Health

There is a solution available, one that is accessible and scalable, one that is available to everyone and prevents, treats, and reverses diabesity at a fraction of the cost. This book provides that solution for individuals, communities, and nations. It will require significant change at all levels, but each of us has the power to transform this problem.

In addition to curing diabesity on an individual level, we need a movement. I call it Take Back Our Health, and in Part V, I explain how we can all join this movement so we can get healthy together. It starts with the individual, but moves into families, communities, workplaces, schools, and faith-based organizations and filters through us to government and corporations.

In the next chapter, we will look at the true causes of diabesity, and why current treatments aren't working.

The Anniversary Waltz by Darrel Nelson

The Anniversary Waltz by Darrel Nelson


 About the Book
 The Anniversary Waltz At their sixtieth anniversary party, Adam Carlson asks his wife, Elizabeth, for their customary waltz. After the dance they gather the family and share their story-a story of love and courage overcoming adversity and thriving in the face of overwhelming odds. It's the summer of 1946, and Adam has just returned from the war to his home in Reunion, Montana. At a town festival he meets Elizabeth Baxter, a young woman going steady with his former high school rival and now influential banker, Nathan Roberts. When Adam and Elizabeth share a waltz in a deserted pavilion one evening, their feelings begin to grow and they embark on a journey, and a dance, that will last a lifetime.



 


 About the Author
 Darrel Nelson is a graduate of the University of Lethbridge in Alberta, Canada, with bachelor's degrees in English and education. He is a schoolteacher by profession, with thirty-three years of teaching experience, and currently teaches fourth grade at Raymond Elementary School. Nelson has had an article published in Lethbridge Magazine and has written several dramatic plays, two of which won provincial recognition and were showcased at a drama festival. He won the CJOC radio songwriting contest two years running and has had one song receive international airplay. Writing has always been a passion, and over the years he has written four novels intended for the juvenile market. They are unpublished as yet, but he reads them annually to his fourth-grade students. The Anniversary Waltz is his first novel intended for the adult market.

My Take:   I really enjoyed this book.  We know that Adam and Elizabeth get together as the book starts out at their 60th wedding anniversary.  Even though we knew that they ended up together the author threw in some bumps along the way.  I thought that the relationship that Adam had with his dad was an interesting one as most people are proud that their sons go to fight for their country and are really happy when they come back alive.  I just thought that his father's reaction was different.  I thought the author did a really good job as this is his first book.  I will be looking for more books by him in the future.

I received a copy of this book for review purposes.

Real Virtue by Katy Lee First Chapter Peak

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Katy Lee

and the book:

Real Virtue

Soul Mate Publishing (April 4, 2012)

***Special thanks to Katy Lee for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Katy Lee is an inspirational author, speaker, home-schooling mom, and children’s ministry director. She has dedicated her life to sharing tales of love, from the greatest love story ever told to those sweet romantic stories of falling in love. Her fresh and unique voice brings a fast-paced and modern feel to her Christian romances that are sure to resonate with readers long after the last page. Her debut novel Real Virtue is a finalist in many writing contests, and took second place in the 2011 Georgia Maggie Award of Excellence. Katy lives in New England with her husband and three children.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

In a virtual reality game where she can fly, someone’s aiming to take her down.

Mel Mesini is a New York City restaurateur and an avid, virtual reality world traveler. But her successful life—both online and in reality—takes a swerve the night her father is seriously injured in a hit-and-run. To make matters worse, Officer Jeremy Stiles, the man who had once cut her deep with his harsh, rejecting words, is heading the investigation.

When Jeremy realizes Mel is the actual target, his plan is to protect her—whether she wants him to or not. What he wants is answers, especially about this online game she plays. Is it a harmless pastime as she says? Or is she using it to cover something up? As a faceless predator destroys the things that matter to her, Jeremy knows he’s running out of time before she loses the one thing that matters most—her real life.

Product Details:
List Price: $4.99
File Size: 2383 KB
Print Length: 289 pages
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing (April 4, 2012)
Sold by: Amazon Digital Services
Language: English
ASIN: B007SHM5AQ

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Prologue

In just a moment, and with one little push, the game would begin. Every domino piece strategically set up would come crashing down, one after the other. A line of crafted maneuvers coiling around and around like a winding snake until the last piece lay flat.

Game over.

White-knuckled hands tightened around the steering wheel preparing for that little push; anxious to get started—so the voices would finally stop. Cruel, taunting voices from cruel, taunting people.

These old, rejecting voices bounced back and forth against cranium walls, playing skull ping-pong to the point of near insanity. If only people weren’t so mean. But they were. They are, and enough was enough. After all, there was only so much cruelty a person could take before they gave some of it back.

A pinpoint of light bounced through the sheer, black forest.

The first domino had arrived.

With each step the old man took, the light from his flashlight grew brighter; his bull’s eye bigger. He strode out onto the paved road fifty feet away, oblivious to the game plan.

High beams clicked on, flooding the old man with their blinding light. He raised one hand to shield his eyes from the glare; a rifle filled his other. Too bad he wouldn’t get a chance to use it. The engine roared as the gas pedal hit the floor. It would be over for him in less than a second.

As for the game, it was just getting started.

One

With one nudge of her gaming controller, Mel concealed her avatar behind an immense African baobab tree. Its wide, silvery-barked trunk perfectly shielded her videogame character from her competitor’s eyes. Legend had it that the gods grew tired of listening to the baobab complain about not being slender like the palm and not bearing fruit like the fig, so they pulled the tree up by its roots, replanting it upside down to keep it quiet.

Now, from its gnarled, root-like branches, a green and gold snake slithered down this distorted tree of life. Mel’s lips twitched as the slender, virtual arm on her flat-screen monitor extended with a fluidity an experienced ballerina would envy. Her avatar invited the computer-graphic snake to coil around her hand and then slither down her side. Mel delighted in the fact her avatar’s ruby red smile never wavered. Not a trace of fear glimmered in the dazzling blue eyes of Mel’s virtual self.

She felt bad for the baobab, silenced because it wished for a better life. Mel didn’t see anything wrong with modifying your appearance if it made you a stronger being. She was living proof of how a makeover could help you stand a little straighter, and there would be no one shutting her up because of it.

Not in her new life anyway.

The baobab blurred around the edges as another tree from her past invaded her mind. A lone oak tree with a lone girl beneath it. Well, not totally alone. One person sat beside her. One person who didn’t laugh at the town’s outcast. At least, not until that last night.

Then the joke was really on her.

Mel squeezed her eyes to shove the image back behind its wall. Back to where it couldn’t hurt her. Not in her new life, and definitely not on this website where she’d earned the name Tough-as-Nails.

Nails. That’s what she called her steely-natured avatar. A name she lived up to by nailing every level in the online interactive game of Better Life Virtual World. And tonight she would reach the highest level possible.

As long as she stayed focused.

“Then stop digging up your dead-and-buried past and get focusing,” she scolded herself aloud.

A red flashing dot popped up in the corner of her screen. Her radar alerted her that her competitor closed in. He was here to beat her to the finish line. She could actually lose tonight. The idea of it made her grit her teeth. Her eyes narrowed. She would win. Tonight she would earn her rightful place in the kingdom. All she needed was the key to open the gates.

Mel scanned the side of the tree for the secret door that hid her prize. An opening, a handle, hinges—anything that might resemble a door.

Nothing. Not even an outline of one. She’d completed all of the tasks for it to be revealed to her. It should have been here. She bit her lower lip. Had she slipped up? Missed a step somewhere along the way? Perhaps back in the forest?

No. Nails didn’t slip up. Nails was perfect.

But even Nails’ perfection wouldn’t stop the clock from ticking away, taking Mel’s victory right along with it. Any second now, it wouldn’t matter how perfect Nails was if she didn’t find that key. Mel yanked her hair back in a death grip. “Where is it?” she demanded of her empty office.

The radar alarm blared through her headphones. If her competitor found the key first, the game would be over—and shewould be the loser. Again.

“No!” She sat up straight in her swivel chair, which creaked beneath her. Determination empowered her to find that compartment. “Not again! Never again!”

The gaming rulebook stated that the key could be found on the side of the tree where the afternoon sun shined upon it. Mel looked up and down the illuminated side of the trunk while Nails stood motionless beside it. Sunlight shined from behind Nails’ long, chestnut-colored hair, casting a warm glow on her, too. So Mel knew she had to be searching in the correct location. She brought Nails to a crouching position for a different view.

“Eureka!” Mel said on a rush of air. There was a contour, just a shade darker than the rest of the tree. In a crevice of one of the monstrous tree roots she found the hidden door. A missed opportunity to the untrained eye, but not to an avid gamer like herself. She moved her controller to bring Nails’ hand over the door.

Click. A shiny golden key beckoned for its new master. Mel touched the screen. If only she could reach in and grab it with her own flesh-and-blood hands.

Beep ... beep, beep, beep. The radar sped up. The game’s version of life support alerted her to the peril of her chances of winning.

“Time to zap out of here,” she said and typed the code that would teleport Nails out of the jungle and directly to the palace.

But the scene remained the same. Nails still crouched beside the tree, holding her key and waiting for Mel’s next move. Instant transport should have occurred. Nails should have been standing in front of the magnificent golden gates, taking her place with the “best of the best.”

“That’s weird,” Mel mumbled, and clicked the code again.

Still no change.

She went bug-eyed on a sharp intake of breath. “This can’t be happening.” Her voice shook. She couldn’t teleport. She couldn’t escape. And the radar showed he was here! She banged on the keys repeatedly, but to no avail.

“Well, hello, Nails.” His slick voice came through Mel’s headset, and her shoulders sagged in defeat. A leopard avatar with black spots and a shiny golden coat of fur stepped out from behind the tree. “What, are you going soft?” His beady amber eyes targeted her key. “That was almost too easy.” He chuckled. Two long saber teeth glistened on the screen.

“Something’s wrong with the game.” She rubbed her forehead furiously. Think. Think. She dared not take her eyes off him. At any moment she expected him to pounce. She moved Nails a step away before he took the opportunity.

The sleek cat closed the gap. “Yeah, right, you just don’t want to admit you’re losing your touch.”

“No, I’m serious.” She tensed, and the controller cracked in her hand. “I lost my teleportation powers.”

“I guess that means the game’s over for you. You might as well give up the key.” His sharp-clawed paw shot out for the key at the same moment Mel backed up Nails another space.

The phone intercom on her spotless desktop buzzed into the room. The feminine singsong voice of her business partner spoke through it. “Mel, you’ve got a phone call.”

Mel kept her eyes on the screen while she fumbled to find the intercom button. She hit it. “Not right now, Chris.”

“It sounds important.”

“Not as important as this.” She shut the intercom off to stop further interruptions.

She had to get away from the leopard. But without teleporting, her only other mode of transportation meant taking Nails to the skies. Nails had earned her ability to fly back at an earlier level, but Mel couldn’t be sure if leopard boy had. She doubted it, though. He tended to just show up and take what he wanted, rather than earn it.

“The game’s not over yet.” Mel broke Nails into a run before swooping her up to soar toward the puffy white clouds above. The leopard shrank as she left him behind. She’d been correct. They didn’t share the same skill in flying.

“If I were you, I’d watch your back!” he yelled. “This can be a cruel world, Nails.”

“But oh, so rewarding!” She waved her key in his direction as her flying skills put rapid distance between them. Nails gained altitude and speed, and Mel triumphantly pumped her fist, loving the feel of victory. “Maybe I’ll send you some chocolates from the palace, or not.”

Mel giggled out loud. If she still ate chocolate, she would have indulged in a piece herself. Besides, she didn’t need chocolate when victory was sweet enough. On the screen, Nails soared onward like an angel, floating through the air. Any thoughts of sweets vanished. Years of practice and control showed through each of her movements.

“The only things you’re missing are the wings,” Mel reflected, imagining an iridescent pair fluttering on Nails’ back. With the threat dispersed, Mel relaxed back into her chair. “I should create a pair for you. I’d say you’ve earned them more than any other celestial being out there. If they’re out there.”

Nails flew out of the jungle and over a shimmering body of water. Ahead, a city skyline of various buildings reached to the darkening sky, luring Mel to her online club and the number one destination in better Life—ClubCreare.

Blue and purple lights shined into the night, leading her, and all the other virtual world travelers, to its doors. They were a beautiful group of beings, people, animals, even a black snake coming up behind Nails, each living out their fantasy in a world of their own making.

People came to socialize, to network, to fall in love. Many were here to make it big, to find their fame in the online world. All they needed was the right person to like their artwork or music and they could carry that fame into the real world. And, being that she was the co-owner of a real-life restaurant and in charge of the entertainment, she just happened to be that right person.

Mel hit the down controls to swoop Nails in, but chaos in the streets below caught her attention. Avatars ran in every direction. She pulled Nails up short to hover over the group. “What’s going on?” she called out.

“Someone’s giving away great stuff,” a buxom blonde with a sparkling diamond necklace in her fist answered. Mel’s eyes narrowed. Was that one of her necklaces?

“Where did you get that?” There wasn’t another one like it. Mel had created it herself.

“It’s free stuff. Get down here quick before it’s all gone.”

She brought Nails in for a quick landing and immediately recognized more and more of her virtual belongings scattered about for the taking. One by one, her clothes were taken away; her jewelry hung from body parts; someone even drove off with her car!

Mel sprang out of her chair, sending it flying back. It clanged loudly against her metal filing cabinet, but her mind screamed louder. Her hands reached for the screen again. “These are all my things! Put them back!” Yelling, her only recourse.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

Mel tore her gaze from her disappearing property to look at a man with bleached-blond hair tied back in a queue and blue-tinted glasses perched on a wide nose.

“I’m serious,” she pleaded. “These are my things! How did they get out here? I didn’t give anything away. How did this happen?”

Mel waited for the man to come to her aid. To help retrieve her belongings. Instead, a laugh burst from his lips. A great big belly-of-a-laugh that had him bent over at the waist, then flinging his head back in abandon.

The hair on the back of her neck rose. Her lips curled in revulsion, and trembled. He was laughing at her, like so many other people before him. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Not in this world. Not in her new life.

Pain seared her palms, and she had to unclench her fists to stop her nails from further slicing through her skin. The laughter coming through her headphones echoed in her head, sending her back in time to when being the butt of jokes was an everyday occurrence.

No! She yanked back from the memories, refusing to go there.

“Dude,” he said, his laughing ceased. She focused on his voice. It sounded muffled and distant as her memories still fought for her attention. “Looks like you’ve been hacked.”

“What?” Mel retracted from the screen. Was that possible? Had she heard him correctly? “You mean someone broke into my account and stole my possessions?” Reality sank in. “And then,” —she swallowed—“just dropped them all out here for the taking?”

“Looks that way to me. You got any cyber-enemies out there?”

“No, I don’t think—” Her mouth gaped open. Did the leopard have the ability to take her possessions away? But if that were the case, wouldn’t he have taken the key, too? It couldn’t have been him.

“Well, someone’s having fun with you.” The avatar turned to walk away. “But hey,”—he stopped—“it could’ve been worse. They could’ve killed you ... virtually, anyway.”

Her throat tightened at the truth of his statement. This hacker could have deleted her whole account. Essentially “killing” her with the click of a button.

Dazed and numb, she stood frozen in her spot. Her skin crawled; she felt violated. These may have been virtual possessions, but she had worked hard for them. It would have been no different if someone had broken into her apartment and robbed her blind. “Why?” she squeaked.

“Why do any hackers hack? Because they can. It’s all in the joy of proving no wall is impenetrable.” He walked away, his chuckle rumbling through her headphones.

Nails stood motionless, her owner too stunned to move her. Her few rejected possessions littered the computer-graphic blacktop. Cars whizzed by, and Nails still didn’t move. Mel didn’t know what to do. What direction to move Nails in. What direction to move herself in. She stared at the screen and realized the laugh was on her. Again.

ArmChair BEA intro.

I am late as usual.

Please tell us a little bit about yourself: Who are you?My name is Mindy How long have you been blogging?I have been blogging since Sept 1, 2009 Why did you get into blogging? I wanted to share about various books that I enjoyed or didn't enjoy. What are you currently reading, or what is your favorite book you have read so far in 2012? I am currently listening to 11-22-63 by Stephen King and I am reading Chasing the Moon by Tracie Peterson. Tell us one non-book-related thing that everyone reading your blog may not know about you. I have homeschooled all my children all the way through school Where do you see your blog in five years? I see myself still sharing and advocating good books. What is your favorite part about the book blogging community? Is there anything that you would like to see change in the coming years? Everyone sharing about books, no matter what genre you prefer. Have your reading tastes changed since you started blogging? How? Not really I still read basically the same type of books, Christian fiction and murder mysteries.

Knowing by Tammy Hill First Chapter Peak

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Tammy Hill

and the book:

Knowing: A Series of Gifts

Creation House; First edition (June 5, 2012)

***Special thanks to Tammy Hill for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Tammy Hill is a homeschool mom with a love for reading, photography, and writing. She grew up in the South, but married an Army pilot and traveled throughout the U.S., China, and Europe. A few years ago, they decided to trade an ordinary, comfortable life for a full life in Christ. This book is just one of the many exciting results of that decision. They now live with the three youngest of their six children and two poodles in the South of France.

Knowing: A Series of Gifts releases on June 5th. Tammy plans to give away a Kindle! Visit her blog to learn more!

Visit the author's book website.
Visit the author's blog.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Sixteen-year-old Ember Matthews is tired of being the person everyone else wants her to be. Although she is nervous about moving to a small town and leaving behind the comforts of her old life, Ember welcomes the opportunity to escape the mistakes and pain of her past.

Ember truly wants to change, but when faced with temptation and peer pressure from some new friends, she finds herself slipping into the same old patterns. As she reconnects with God, Ember begins to realize that she is no ordinary teenager. She sees things that no one else sees, and knows things she has no business knowing. Will Ember learn to use her God-given gift, or will the burden of her calling be too much for her to carry?


Knowing Book Trailer from aseriesofgifts on GodTube.

Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Creation House; First edition (June 5, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616389265
ISBN-13: 978-1616389260

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

A spiritual gift is given to each
of us so we can help each other.
—1 Corinthians 12:7


Prologue

My dream haunts me, and not only when I am
asleep. It also scratches the back of my wakened
mind, as elusive as a forgotten lyric or name and yet,
it leaves me in a state of perpetual hunger; searching for some‑
thing I know is close but just out of my reach.
This recurring nightmare never deviates for a moment. As
always, I lay on my stomach across my bed in my old bedroom,
engrossed in the book that lies open in front of me. Sheltered in
the pastel pink of my room, I am always oblivious in the begin‑
ning. My bare feet move lazily from the bed and back heaven‑
ward as I bend my legs with each turn of the page, humming a
tuneless melody. Although there is nothing alarming; no sound
or movement other than my own; a sense of unease washes over
me. My heart begins to thud loudly in my chest and my veins
turn to ice as I slowly move to a sitting position in my bed.
Then, my walls crumble to the floor in one swift movement as
silently as a curtain dropping after the final act. I jump up and
stare in disbelief at what I see around me. No longer protected
by the false security of my walls, I see a wasteland of charred
earth and darkness. A whimper escapes me and tears spring to
my eyes. I turn in a circle looking for a place to hide, but every‑
thing from my past life is gone now; only destruction and ruin
remain. Just beyond the darkness, I can barely make out the
shadows of horrific creatures. I can’t help but to close my eyes
to them. Then, the screams begin. I hear hundreds of voices, all
screaming in pain and pleading for help. As I cower in the place
that was once my safe haven, I have a strong feeling of urgency
to do something. Even in my fear, I know the answer is close.
I fall to the ground, kneeling over with my arms bent over my
head. I rock back and forth like this, pleading to someone for
the answer all the while knowing I should get up and help these
lost souls.
I know.
Then, as quickly as the revelation began, it’s over. I wake up
with my heart pounding, gasping for air, knowing inherently
things aren’t what they seem. I wake up knowing that I have a
purpose to fulfill. Soon though, the dream fades, along with the
feeling of urgency. Although the desire for answers never leaves
me, my everyday life begins to take precedence over the fervor
of my dream.
Once again, I’m lulled into believing that I’m just an average,
powerless teenager.

Chapter One

I reclined on the beach towel and grabbed another to
throw over my face. I had only just taken a few steps out of
the ocean, but the drops of water were already baking off
my sun‑darkened skin. I blindly groped for the small, red cooler
positioned between my cousin and me. I should have gotten out
a bottle of water before I covered my face; dilemmas like this
were the extent of my problems nowadays. I found the bottle
and pulled it out, ignoring the mumbling of my fifteen‑year‑old
cousin, whom I had evidently splashed with ice water. As the
older by a year, I had been looking out for her this summer; she
could consider this my aiding her against heatstroke.
I leaned up on my elbows to take a sip. The towel fell from
my face, so I glanced around at the carefree families playing in
the surf and then took a minute to check out the guys as they
checked out the girls. I had been staying with my grandparents
at their house on the beach for four weeks now; it had become
a familiar scene. I tunneled my toes further down to find the
damp coolness in the white sand as the DJ on our small por‑
table stereo talked about the record‑breaking heat. In the dis‑
tance, I could hear a gang of squawking seagulls demanding
more food from the unfortunate tourist who made the mis‑
take of tossing up the first crumb. Further off, there was the
occasional crack of a firecracker, leftovers from last weekend’s
Fourth of July celebration.
I looked over for my bag so I could toss the now empty bottle,
but didn’t see it. Instead, I caught a glance of my grandfather
waving to me from the boardwalk. It was not just a friendly
wave. Instead, it yelled, I need you for something! My cell phone
was securely zipped up in plastic and tucked away in our beach
bag, wherever that was. I nudged Priscilla, who must have been
in a sun coma, because she didn’t budge. I reached in the cooler
and doused her again, which snapped her right out of it. She
didn’t think it was funny, to say the least, and was a little too
smug for my liking when she told me the bag, along with my
cell phone, was in the house. Now it was my turn to grumble as
I threw my swimsuit cover over my head. Then, I realized my
flip‑flops were also in the absent bag. I would have to attempt
to jog up to the beach house without burning my feet on the
white‑hot sand. I skeptically judged the distance. I told you I
had problems.
“Hi, Gramps, what’s up?” I asked from the wooden steps just
outside the screened back porch where he stood. I reached over
and twisted on the short water faucet. It let out a squeak in reply.
I used the attached green hose to spray off my legs and feet; a
ritual my grandmother expected us to perform each time we
made the short walk from the beach.
“Ember, I hate to tell you this, but it looks like we’re going to
have to cut your stay with us a little short.”
I hope it will only be by a few days, I thought, as I opened the
screen door. I had been having a great time. When I asked him
how short was short, he ran a hand through his thinning hair.
“Well, I just talked to your mom. She wants you back
tomorrow.”
There was about a five second moment of shocked silence,
then I exploded, “Tomorrow, but that’s ridiculous!” I began
shuffling around sofa pillows, looking for the lost cell phone bag
with urgency, already concocting arguments with Mom in my
mind. I found the missing beach bag lying on the floor behind a
chair. I pulled out the baggie and held it up, grinning from my
victory; until I noticed Granddad didn’t share my excitement.
He had taken a seat on the porch swing and was just looking
down at his tented fingers.
“Granddad,” I asked with a sense of unease. “Is everything
OK?” He just smiled and patted the empty spot beside him.
“Honey, everything is fine. Everyone is healthy.” I let out a
deep breath in relief because he had answered the question I
was afraid to ask. My grandfather smiled again to reassure me.
As I remember it now, I realize his eyes didn’t match his
smile’s optimism, but I was—to make a grand understatement—
a lot less “in tune” back then.
“I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this . . . ,” he hesi‑
tated, looking over at the back door. My gaze followed his to
my grandmother, who was watching us through the window.
Realizing she had been discovered, she quickly wiped her hands
on her apron and came out, taking a seat in the rocking chair.
“ . . . but, your mom wanted you to know now and not over the
telephone.”
Grandma broke in. “Just say it, George, you’re scaring her.”
“Grace, if you think you could do better . . . ”
“Please, you two, what’s wrong?” I pleaded.
Grandma shot him a scathing look and filled me in on what
would be yet another life changing transition for me. “Your
mother has divorced Bill, honey. It looks like they decided to end
it the last time you were here, during spring break. The papers
were finalized last week.” She paused and glanced nervously at
me then continued, more brightly, “It sounds like Kim’s found a
cute little place for you two, just a few miles outside of the city.
She needs our help to get some of your things moved in and, of
course, we’re happy to help. I’ve already talked to your uncles.
They’re willing to take off the next couple of days and go with
us. They’ll just have to work the weekend to make it up, but
their boss is always real understanding about family matters . . . ”
She was just rambling now, graciously giving me time to
wrap my head around the unexpected news. My mother had
left my stepfather. Four years ago, almost to the day, they were
getting married on this beach; now it was over. Grandma
used the words, “cute and little” when she described the house.
Knowing Mom, she had refused to take much financial help
from Bill, if any at all, even though he was loaded. I took a
deep, shaky breath. So, the life of popularity and wealth was
over, just like that. I tasted the salty tears before I sensed I
was crying. Grandma must have realized it at the same time
because she stopped chattering. She and Grandpa both jumped
up and sandwiched me into a fierce hug.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I can’t believe they did this to you.
It’s going to be all right. We’ll help you through this . . . ”
On and on it went, these words of encouragement she and
Granddad cooed at me through my tears. What they didn’t
know—couldn’t understand—was their pity fell on deaf ears.
I was crying tears of relief.

The movement of the swing lulled me into numbness as I sat
on the screened back porch of my new house. The rain mim‑
icked my mood and took the place of the tears I no longer had
in me to shed. Only yesterday, I was enjoying the summer at
my grandparents’ beach house in Florida. We had planned for
me to stay until mid‑August, but it was cut a month short by
Mom’s insistence to get out of my stepfather’s house. I mean ex‑
stepfather. Instead of an address in the wealthy area of Atlanta,
we now resided on the outskirts in Smalltown, USA, popula‑
tion 15,000. I know he was helping her financially because she
was able to get a day job in a pediatric clinic instead of the
many shifts she used to work before Dr. Bill. He wasn’t exactly
throwing money at her feet, though, considering we were the
proud owners of a 1950s brick ranch house, roughly only a little
larger than a mobile home.
After the long drive, my grandparents, uncles, and I stayed
in a rundown hotel by the interstate. My grandmother and I
slept in the same room, though only one of us actually got any
sleep. I spent the night with a pillow over my head in a futile
attempt to drown out the sounds of my grandmother’s snores
and the neighbor’s television that blared all night through the
paper‑thin walls. We had an early morning rendezvous in the
lobby for breakfast. Soon, we were on the road to my new house
and life. I wasn’t ready, but cold cereal from a plastic dispenser
in a room the size of closet didn’t exactly inspire anyone to hang
out. Besides, they were all here to work. After a surprisingly
quick reunion with Mom and an even faster tour of the house,
everyone went to work unloading the moving van. Thankfully,
the carport kept us from getting too soaked and we managed
to unload all of the boxes and put the furniture in place. My
family left to get an early dinner and to help Mom return the
rental truck before heading back to Florida. I said my goodbyes
and stayed at the house to sulk. I just wanted to be alone for a
while and process everything. I had spent my time staring at
nothing, lost in the past. When I came out of it I noticed, for
the first time, a dead plant in the corner of the porch. The pre‑
vious owners must have left it behind. I couldn’t blame them. It
obviously hadn’t seen water for days; no way it was coming back
to life. In spite of my better judgment, I picked it up and put it
outside in the rain. We all deserve another chance.
Just as I got comfortable again, the sliding glass door opened.
I turned to see Mom standing there, shaking her head.
“Daydreaming again, Ember? What’s the fantasy about this
time?” she joked.
“That I have my life back,” I retorted and felt instantly sorry,
but pride kept me quiet.
Mom’s face fell. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but
we were interrupted by a guy who looked about my age carrying
one of our boxes of stuff.
“Where would you like this?”
Mom asked him to set it on the table for a minute. “Ember,
this is Cade. He rode by, saw me unloading this box we missed,
and insisted on helping.”
Cade walked over to me and stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m
Cade,” then rolled his eyes at his mistake.
“Yeah, I heard. And as you heard, I’m Ember,” I said, still
grumpy from being disturbed. I saw the appalled look on Mom’s
face and took the hint. I reached out and gave his hand a quick
squeeze.
“With an E?” he asked, seemingly unfazed by my rudeness.
“Yeah, my parents had a weird sense of humor.”
He laughed at my misfortune and then grinned, not taking
his eyes off of me. I surprised myself by smiling back. I couldn’t
seem to help myself. The guy practically radiated crush vibes.
Plus, he was cute with sun‑lightened, thick blond hair cut in
uneven layers, blue eyes, and a 100‑watt, mischievous smile.
Mom cleared her throat, and I dragged my eyes away to check
the box.
“That goes to my room. Come on, I’ll show you.”
My “new” room had obviously been decorated for a little boy.
It was powder blue from the ceiling down to the shag carpet
and was about the size of a box. In fact, the entire house could
almost fit into my closet. The closet that used to be mine, that
is; in the life I lived for four years beginning when I was twelve.
In here, there was a double closet with a sliding door just to the
left of the doorway. Straight ahead was a large picture window
that took up most of the wall. Underneath it was my twin bed.
A full‑sized bed wouldn’t have fit in here. On the right, by the
door, was my mirrored dresser. Further over on the far wall was
my memory collector, a white shelving system that took up a
full wall. It was comprised of dozens of different‑sized cubbies.
My grandfather had assembled it for me that morning. I had
hoped to put off organizing my things until another day but it
looked like fate had a different idea.
“Keep the door open!” Mom instructed loudly from the
kitchen.
I rolled my eyes at the reprimand. “That is so not like her,” I
informed Cade. Maybe it was the extra stress. I let it go and
stepped out of his way. “Just lay it over by the shelves.”
“Wow, what are you going to put in here?” he asked, as he
placed the box on the floor and took his place by it.
I knelt in front of the box and, once again, found myself
smiling, “You have no idea.”
When I leaned over the box to open it, a few curls escaped
from behind my ear, which is usual for me. It’s thick, wavy, and
falls a few inches below my shoulders. My hair was normally
brown, but the summer sun (and an Atlanta hair colorist) made
it lighter with blond highlights. Sunlight, both real and artifi‑
cial, also darkened my usual porcelain‑colored skin, which my
mom said made my green eyes “pop,” whatever that means. I
pulled a hair tie from my wrist and tied my hair back in a knot.
I looked up to find Cade staring at me. He quickly looked away.
I continued working on the box. I tore it open and brushed away
Styrofoam popcorn to reveal my treasure.
“What is all of this?” Cade asked reaching inside.
“Memories,” I responded with pride and pulled out a Statue
of Liberty snow globe. “My bio‑dad brought me this after one
of his trips.”
“Bio‑dad?”
“Yeah, my biological father, Jackson Matthews. He and my
mother dated in high school. He was tall, dark, and handsome
and wanted to see the world right after graduation. She was
underage and smitten, but knew her parents would never approve,
so they eloped. That summer, they made it from Florida to
Atlanta before they found out Mom was pregnant with me. He
left the summer after I was born to ‘explore their next options’
and finally only came back to give her divorce papers.”
“That bites. So, you don’t see him often?”
I shook my head and placed the globe on a shelf. “He has four
different kids from four different wives. That and his wanderlust
keep him busy, and absent. That’s why the few things I do have
from him are special. He’s never been there to give me any other
kind of memories.”
“And this?” Cade asked as he held a little, white Bible.
I took it and thumbed through it, smiling. “I received that as
a gift from my old church when I got water baptized. That was
right before Mom got remarried to Bill. I was twelve. I don’t
think I’ve ever felt happier than I did that night,” I whispered,
lost in the memory.
“So, you’re a Christian?”
“Yes. I mean a lot has happened since then, but that doesn’t
matter, right?” I asked, chewing my lip.
Cade shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I don’t get into that stuff.” I
guess he noticed my concern at his abrupt behavior because he
added, “Look, I totally understand your need for religion, espe‑
cially when you were young and weak. I just don’t need that
right now in my life. Everything is going great for me.”
“How so?” I prodded.
“I’m going to be a junior this year. That means only two more
years of this place, then I’m outta here.”
“I’m going to be in eleventh grade, too,” I offered. Our eyes
locked for a second then he reached around his neck and
unclasped his necklace. It was a black leather strip with some
kind of gem as the pendant. He slid the pendant off, stood up
and laid it on the top shelf.
“What are you doing?”
“This is definitely a good memory kind of day,” he said with
a wink. I’d better get going. If you want to talk church with
someone you should meet Mouse.”
“Mouse?” I questioned.
“Yeah, I think you two will really hit it off. You want me to
introduce you to her and show you around some tomorrow?”
“I would like that,” I said happily, as I stood up.
Cade asked for my cell number and dialed it to send me his
number. On the way out, he paused at my doorway and said, “I
know this must be rough on you, moving and all, so you’ll just
have to forgive me.”
“For what?” I asked, puzzled.
“For taking pleasure in your pain. I’ll call you later tonight,
new girl” he said with a smile and left me alone with the butter‑
flies in my stomach. I blinked as a glare bounced off my mirror.
I turned around to face the window.
“So there you are,” I said to the setting sun with a grin.

Copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by
permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois, 60188.
All rights reserved.
Names appearing in this text have been changed to preserve the anonymity
of the individuals. Any similarity to actual persons is coincidental and
unintended by the publisher.
Design Director: Bill Johnson
Cover design by Nancy Panaccione
Copyright © 2012 by Tammy Hill
All rights reserved