Motiv8 Fantasy Fiction Tour WEST COAST 2008

Christy Winners and Finalists Announced!!!

Here are the Christy winners and Finalists!!!

I plan to read them all, but for now, you can see my comments on those that I have be blessed to read. - MJ


CONTEMPORARY (Stand Alone)

Winner:
Chasing Fireflies by Charles Martin (Thomas Nelson)

Finalists:

In High Places by Tom Morrisey (Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group)

Quaker Summer by Lisa Samson (Thomas Nelson) [I just won a copy the other day, I cannot wait to read it!]



CONTEMPORARY (Series, Sequels and Novellas)

Winner:
Home to Holly Springs by Jan Karon (Viking Penguin)

Finalists:

A Time to Mend by Sally John and Gary Smalley (Thomas Nelson)

What Lies Within by Karen Ball (WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group) [I have only read part of this one so far, but enjoyed that part. I really liked the first two of this series as well. Karen is very talented, but then I think that is a known fact in the writing word of Christian Fiction.]



HISTORICAL

Winner:
A Proper Pursuit by Lynn Austin (Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group)

Finalists:

Lady of Milkweed Manor by Julie Klassen (Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group) [This is one that I'm dying to get my hands on...]

A Tendering in the Storm by Jane Kirkpatrick (WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group)



LITS (tie)

Winner:
Hallie's Heart by Shelly Beach (Kregel Publications)

Finalists:

Doesn't She Look Natural by Angela Hunt (Tyndale House Publishers)

Let Them Eat Cake by Sandra Byrd (WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group)

Trophy Wives Club by Kristin Billerbeck (Avon Inspire, a division of HarperCollins Publishers)



ROMANCE

Winner:
Remembered by Tamera Alexander (Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group) [This entire series by Tammy was beyond wonderful! Read my review of Rekindled, Revealed, and Remembered here.]

Finalists:

Lightning and Lace by DiAnn Mills (Barbour Publishing) [Looking forward to reading this one.]

Remember to Forget by Deborah Raney (Howard Books, a division of Simon and Schuster) [Looking forward to reading this one.]



SUSPENSE

Winner:
The Cure by Athol Dickson (Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group)

Finalists:

My Hands Came Away Red by Lisa McKay (Moody Publishers)

The Pawn by Steven James (Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group)



VISIONARY

Winner:
Scarlet by Stephen R. Lawhead (Thomas Nelson) [Hood and Scarlet are probably two of my favorite books now, they were really wonderful. Also, I'd suggest Elsa Watson's Maid Marian to read along with them. To read my review of Hood and Scarlet click here. To read my review of Maid Marian click here.]

Finalists:

Auralia's Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet (WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group) [Started this one, was bored with it slightly, but I plan to go back once the TBR pile shrinks...]

The Restorer by Sharon Hinck (NavPress Publishing Group) [Absolutely loved it, read my review here. I cannot wait to read The Restorer's Son and The Restorer's Journey.]



FIRST NOVEL

Winner:
The Stones Cry Out by Sibella Giorello (Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group)

Finalists:

Auralia's Colors by Jeffrey Overstreet (WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group)

Demon: A Memoir by Tosca Lee (NavPress Publishing Group) [I really cannot wait to read this one.]



YOUNG ADULT

Winner:
Hollywood Nobody by Lisa Samson (NavPress Publishing Group) [Absolutely fabulous, no doubt about it. I just loved HN and Finding Hollywood Nobody and Romancing Hollywood Nobody. Read my review of HN, then FHN, and then RHN. I cannot wait for Goodbye Hollywood Nobody!]

Finalists:

Maggie Come Lately by Michelle Buckman (NavPress Publishing Group)

In Between by Jenny B. Jones (NavPress Publishing Group)

The Restorer by Sharon Hinck: a review

Two absolute favorite quotes from this book: Chapter 27 "As far as dramatic entrances go, I thought it was very effective." and Chapter 33 "Warmth surged through me. He was right. The role of the Restorer wasn't all that different from the roles I had in my own world. In both worlds I felt discouraged by my weakness and very small against the needs and battles I faced. yet, even weak or small, I wasn't on the road alone."

When I agreed to read The Restorer for review, I was fairly excited about it. I had seen the book in a bookstore and almost had purchased it then. The cover completely intrigued me with a woman in normal khaki and sweater attire while holding a medieval sword. Upon receiving the task to read and review The Restorer's Journey, the third book in the series I knew I had to read all three in order, especially since I had heard so many good things about the creativeness of author Sharon Hinck's mind. I'm new to read the sci-fi/fantasy/speculative fiction Christian world and I am loving it. There are so many things that I do not have a basis for imagery, but just giving myself a brief image I am fully learning to use the capabilities of my imagination again.


The Restorer takes a normal, average woman and throws her into an alternate world and as I reader you think she might be dreaming or just plain crazy, but as each chapter and page reveals itself you stop caring about the reason why she is where she is and about what she will do next, and how she can survive. Hinck has performed an incredible task with her writing to really make the reader understand and feel what is going on in the life of our main character Susan. She doesn't just pick up a sword and become a super-hero, she goes through doubt and fear and through a realistic turn of events crazy and wonderful and terrifying things happen.


This story gives a reader an escape from reality, everything that Susan needed at the time. But it does so in a fashion that brings you back stronger and more optimistic about what really needs to be accomplished in reality. (Confused yet? Don't be, because that is not what is important.) There are so many things in our lives that are overwhelming and we just sometimes want to run away inside ourselves. It is possible and we are capable of doing just that, but that will not solve anything and really make life harder on the people we care about around us. It is when we realize that we need God, the One, and use His strength that we can accomplish any and all things that we are meant to do. The Bible, the Verses, are a gift to man from God. He has given us this gift of power for strength. When we know various scriptures and verses that can help in various situations, we can avoid the doubt and depression that comes on and move forward in His love. This book fully encourages me to go and memorize scripture for all I'm worth. When I think about my life I can remember times when scripture has helped me, or I knew the right thing to say to a friend to help. But so many times I have gotten caught up in the world around me and let doubt and the lack of time take over. In a sense I was being "poisoned" and did not realize it.


Part of me feels like if only we could live in a world that is framed around the Biblical scriptures and have everyone believe it would be so much easier, but at the same time. I realize that it wouldn't fix everything. There are still the random leader who seeks power for corruption and people can be fooled by man-altered documents. Prayer and time spent with the Lord and time thought over his verses of scripture personally is the only way to be as strong as you can be. Nobody else can do it for you. Wow, what an inspirational book. I never thought I'd be this impressed, but I am.


Coming soon, I will have a review of the second and third book in the Sword of Lyric series.
Book #1 The Restorer
Book #2 The Restorer's Son
Book #3 The Restorer's Journey

MJ

The Restorer's Journey by Sharon Hinck

FIRST - The Restorer's Journey by Sharon Hinck

It is March FIRST, time for the FIRST Day Blog Tour! (Join our alliance! Click the button!) The FIRST day of every month we will feature an author and his/her latest book's FIRST chapter!

This month's feature is:

Sharon Hinck

and her book:

The Restorer's Journey

Navpress Publishing Group (February 7, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Sharon Hinck holds a BA in education, and she earned an MA in communication from Regent University in 1986. She spent ten years as the artistic director of a Christian performing arts group, CrossCurrent. That ministry included three short-term mission trips to Hong Kong. She has been a church youth worker, a choreographer and ballet teacher, a homeschool mom, a church organist, and a bookstore clerk. One day she’ll figure out what to be when she grows up, but in the meantime, she’s pouring her imagination into writing. Her stories focus on characters who confront the challenges of a life of faith. She’s published dozens of articles in magazines and book compilations, and released her first novel, The Secret Life of Becky Miller (Bethany House), in 2006. In April 2007, she was named “Writer of the Year” at the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference. When she isn’t wrestling with words, Sharon enjoys speaking at conferences and retreats. She and her family make their home in Minnesota. She loves to hear from readers, so send a message through the portal into her writing attic on the “Contact Sharon” page of her website, http://www.sharonhinck.com/. She is also an avid blogger...visit Stories for the Hero in All of Us.

The first and second books in The Sword of Lyric series are The Restorer and The Restorer’s Son. The FIRST chapter shown here is from the third book, The Restorer's Journey. Enjoy!



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Chapter One - JAKE

My mom was freaking out.

She stared out the dining room window as if major-league monsters were hiding in the darkness beyond the glass. Give me a break. Our neighborhood was as boring as they came. Ridgeview Drive’s square lawns and generic houses held nothing more menacing than basketball hoops and tire swings. Still, Mom’s back was tight, and in the shadowed reflection on the pane, I could see her biting her lip. I didn’t know what to say to make her feel better.

I ducked back into the kitchen and used a wet rag to wipe off the counters. Clumps of flour turned to paste and smeared in gunky white arcs across the surface. I shook the rag over the garbage can, the mess raining down on the other debris we’d swept up. Broken jars of pasta and rice filled the bag. I stomped it down, twist-tied the bag and jogged it out to the trashcan by the garage. Usually, I hated the chore of taking out the trash. Not tonight. Maybe if I erased the signs of our intruders, Mom would relax a little.

So Cameron and Medea dropped a few things when they were looking for supplies. No biggie. Why did my folks have such a problem with those two anyway? They’d been great to me. I trudged back into the house, rubbing my forehead. Wait. That wasn’t right. A shiver snaked through my spine. Never mind. They were probably long gone by now.

“Kitchen’s done.” I carried the broom into the dining room, hoping Mom had finished in there. But she was still hugging her arms and staring out the window.

She turned and looked at the china cabinet, then squeezed her eyes shut as if they were hurting. “Why?” she whispered.

Glass shards jutted from one cabinet door, and the other hung crooked with wood splinters poking out. Broken china covered the floor. Mom and Dad had been collecting those goofy teacups ever since they got married.

I pushed the broom against the edge of the fragments, but the chinking sound made her wince, so I stopped.

Dad strode past with an empty garbage bag from the hall closet and stopped to give my mom a squeeze. He nodded toward me. “Honey, Jake’s alive. Nothing else matters. We all got back safe.” He leaned his head against hers, and I edged toward the kitchen in case they started kissing. For an old married couple, they were a little too free with their public displays of affection. No guy wants to watch his parents act mushy.

But my mom didn’t look like she was in a kissing mood. She pressed her lips together. I had a sneaking suspicion that she was more freaked out about what had happened to my hand than our house. Like when I had cancer as a kid. She’d gotten really stressed about the details of a church fundraiser and cranky about everything that went wrong—stuff that wasn’t even important. It gave her a place to be angry when she was trying to be brave about a bigger problem.

“It’s only a piece of furniture.” Dad was doing his soothing voice. When would he catch on that only made things worse?

“Only a piece of furniture we bought as a wedding gift to each other.” She swiped at some wet spots on her face. “Only twenty years’ worth of poking around garage sales and thrift stores together. Don’t tell me what it’s only! Okay?”

“Okay.” Dad backed away from her prickles.

I made another ineffectual push with the broom. My folks didn’t argue much, but when they did, it grated like a clutch struggling to find third gear. Typical over-responsible firstborn, I wanted to fix it but didn’t know how.

Mom picked up a Delft saucer, smashed beyond repair, and laid the pieces gently into the garbage bag. Dad folded his arms and leaned against the high back of one of the chairs. “I can fix the cabinet. That splintered door will need to be replaced, but the other one just needs new hinges. I can put in new glass.” His eyes always lit up when he talked about a woodworking project. The man loved his tools.

Mom smiled at him. Her tension faded, and she got all moony-eyed, so I ducked into the kitchen just as the doorbell rang. Thank heaven. “Pizza’s here!” I yelled.

Dad paid the delivery guy, and I carried the cartons into the living room. Flopping onto one end of the couch, I pried open the lid. “Hey, who ordered green peppers? Mom, you’ve gotta quit ruining good pizza with veggies.”

That made her laugh. “We’d better save a few pieces for the other kids.” She cleared the Legos off the coffee table and handed me a napkin.

I gladly surrendered the top pizza box, along with its green pepper, and dove into the pepperoni below. “Where is everyone?”

“Karen’s spending the night at Amanda’s—trying out her new driver’s license. Jon and Anne are at Grandma’s. But if they see the pizza boxes when they get home tomorrow . . . ”

I nodded. “Yep. Pure outrage. I can hear it now. ‘It’s not fair. Jake always gets to have extra fun.’” I did a pretty good impression of the rug rats. What would the kids think if they found out what else they had missed? This had been the strangest Saturday the Mitchell family had ever seen.

I popped open a can of Dr. Pepper. My third. Hey, I’d earned some extra caffeine. “So, what do we tell the kids?”

Mom smiled and looked me up and down, probably thinking I was one of the kids. When would it sink in that I was an adult now? I guzzled a third of my pop and set it down with a thump. “We could tell them there was a burglar, but then they’d want to help the police solve the case, and they’d never stop asking questions.”

“Good point.” Mom licked sauce from her finger. “Jon and Anne would break out the detective kit you gave them for Christmas.”

Dad tore a piece of crust from his slice of pepperoni. “If we finish cleaning everything, I don’t think they’ll pay much attention. The cabinet is the only obvious damage. If they ask, we’ll just say it got bumped and fell.”

Dad wanted us to lie? So not like him. Then again, when Kieran told me Dad wasn’t originally from our world, I realized there were a lot of things he’d never been honest about. Now I was part of the family secret, too.

He rested his piece of pizza on the cardboard box and looked at Mom. “Do we need to warn them?”

“Warn them?” She mumbled around a mouth full of melted cheese.

“In case Cameron and Medea come back.” His voice was calm, but I suddenly had a hard time swallowing. Something cold twisted in me when he said their names. The same cold that had numbed my bones when I’d woken up in the attic. Why? They’d taken care of me. No, they’d threatened me. Confusing images warred inside my brain.

“You think they’ll come back?” My baritone went up in pitch, and I quickly took another sip of pop.

Dad didn’t answer for a moment. “It depends on why they came. If they plan to stay in our world, we need to find them—stop them. But my guess is that Cameron wants to return to Lyric with something from our world that he can use there. That means they’ll be back to go through the portal.”

Mom sank deeper into the couch and looked out the living room windows. At the curb, our family van shimmered beneath a streetlight.

They might be out there, too. They could be watching us right this second.

“Maybe we should call the police.” Mom’s voice sounded thin. I’d suggested that earlier. After all, someone had broken in—well, broken out.

Dad snorted. “And tell them what?”

He had a point, but it’s not like there was a rulebook for dealing with visitors from other universes. Unless you attended Star Trek conventions. “So what’s your plan?” I asked.

“I’ll get extra locks tomorrow. Maybe look into an alarm system.” Dad believed every problem could be solved with his Home Depot credit card. He turned to me. “Can you remember more about your conversations with Cameron? What did he ask you about? What did he seem interested in?”

A shudder moved through me, and pain began pulsing behind my eyes.

Mom gave Dad a worried glance, then rested a hand on my arm. “It’s okay, honey. We don’t have to talk about it right now.” She smoothed my hair back from my face.

“No problem.” I brushed her hand away, sprawled back on the couch, and studied the ceiling. “It just seems like it was all a dream.”

“What’s the last thing you remember clearly?” Dad pulled his chair closer and watched me.

“Braide Wood.” I closed my eyes and smiled. “It reminded me of summer camp. And I was so tired of running and hiding in caves. I finally felt safe. Tara fussed over me, and I taught Dustin and Aubrey how to play soccer. It felt like home.”

I struggled to remember the rest. For some reason my memories were tangled up, like the time I had a major fever and took too much Nyquil. Mom and Dad waited.

“I went to see Morsal Plains with Tara. Brutal. The grain was all black and it smelled weird. Tara told me about the attack. How Hazor poisoned it on purpose and how Susan the Restorer led the army to protect Braide Wood.” I squinted my eyes open and looked sideways at my mom. They’d told me she had ridden into battle with a sword. “Unbelievable.”

Even though she was watching me with a worried pinch to her eyes, she smiled. “I know. I lived it, and it’s hard for me to believe.”

“Anyway, I hiked back to Tara’s house, and some guys came to take me to Cameron. He made a big fuss over me. Said it was his job to welcome guests to the clans. Said I’d run into bad company but he’d make it up to me. He gave me something to drink, and there was this lady. She was amazing.” No matter how fuzzy my memories were, Medea was easy to remember. The long curly hair, the sparkling eyes, the dress that clung to all the right places. My cheeks heated. “I can’t remember everything we talked about. She made me feel important, like I wasn’t just some teenage kid. It was . . . ” I sat taller and angled away from my parents, my jaw tightening. “She helped me realize that no one else had ever really understood me. I wanted to become a guardian. I had an important job to do.”

“Jake.” Dad’s voice was sharp, and I flinched. “The woman you met was a Rhusican. They poison minds. Don’t trust everything you’re feeling right now.”

A pulsing ache grabbed the base of my neck. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. Mom’s hand settled on my shoulder, and I stiffened. Weird static was messing with my head.

“Jake, they used you to find the portal. She doesn’t really understand you.” Mom’s voice was quiet and sounded far away. I felt like I was falling away inside myself. She squeezed my shoulder. “Remember my favorite psalm?”

I managed a tight smile. “How could I forget? You made us learn the whole thing one summer. ‘O Lord, you have searched me and you know me…’ blah, blah, blah.”

Despite my smart aleck tone, the words took hold and some of the static in my brain quieted.

“What’s the rest?” Dad pressed me.

What was he trying to prove? That I couldn’t think straight? I could have told him that. I struggled to form the words.

“‘You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.’” Once I got started, I rattled off the verses by rote. In some strange way, the words actually stopped the sensation of falling away inside myself.

“Sounds like there’s someone who understands you a lot better than Cameron and Medea. Remember that.” Dad stood up and tousled my hair. Then he yawned. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Mom didn’t move. She was still watching me. “How’s the hand?”

I rubbed my palm. “Still fine. Weird, huh?” I held it out.

A scar, faint as a white thread, marked the skin where broken glass had cut a deep gash an hour earlier. My lungs tightened. What did it mean?

Dad shook his head. “Come on. Bedtime.”

Mom hesitated, but then stood and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Good night, Jake. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Oh, great. She sure loved talking. I looked at Dad. His mouth twitched. “I’ll get us signed up for some practice space at the fencing club.”

Good. He hadn’t forgotten his promise. I couldn’t make sense of my trip through the portal, or the sudden-healing thing, but I knew I wanted to learn to use a sword.

My parents gathered up the pizza stuff and carried it to the kitchen, out of sight, but not out of earshot.

“If we hide the portal stones Cameron and Medea won’t be able to go back,” Dad said over the crinkling of a sheet of aluminum foil.

Someone slammed the fridge door shut hard enough to make the salad dressing bottles rattle. “We don’t want them running around our world. They don’t belong here.” Mom sounded tense.

“I know. We have to send them back. But on our terms. Without anything that would hurt the People of the Verses. And what about Jake?”

Silence crackled, and I leaned forward from my spot on the couch.

When Mom refused to answer, Dad spoke again, so quiet I almost couldn’t hear. “We need to keep the portal available in case he’s needed there. But how will we know?”

Needed there? Did he really think . . .?

I waited for them to head back to their bedroom, then slipped down the steps from the kitchen to the basement. Most of the basement was still unfinished – except for my corner bedroom and Dad’s workbench.

I hurried into my room and shut out the world behind me. Tonight everything looked different. The movie posters, the bookshelves, the soccer team trophy. Smaller, foreign, unfamiliar.

I pulled a thumbtack from my bulletin board and scratched it across my thumb. A line of blood appeared, but in a microsecond the tiny scrape healed completely. I had assumed the healing power was some heebie-jeebie thing that Medea had given me, or that had transferred over from my interactions with Kieran.

But now that my head had stopped throbbing, I could put the pieces together. Excitement stronger than caffeine zipped around my nerve endings. My folks thought this was more than a weird effect left over from my travels through the portal. They thought I might be the next Restorer.

Fabulously enough, I received my book in the mail TODAY! I'm thoroughly excited to read it, but I have heard so much about her whole series that I went out and bought the first two as well... So, now I am fully enthralled in the first book, and will have reviews coming to you as soon as I can on not just the third book, but all three.

MJ