Goodbye Hollywood Nobody by Lisa Samson

by 123pizza on October 11, 2008

It is October 11th, and FIRST is doing a special tour to ‘Say Goodbye to Hollywood Nobody’.

Today’s feature author is:

and her book:

Goodbye Hollywood Nobody

NavPress Publishing Group (September 15, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Lisa Samson is the author of twenty books, including the Christy Award-winning Songbird. Apples of Gold was her first novel for teens

These days, she’s working on Quaker Summer, volunteering at Kentucky Refugee Ministries, raising children and trying to be supportive of a husband in seminary. (Trying . . . some days she’s downright awful. It’s a good thing he’s such a fabulous cook!) She can tell you one thing, it’s never dull around there.

Other Novels by Lisa:

Hollywood Nobody, Finding Hollywood Nobody, Romancing Hollywood Nobody, Straight Up, Club Sandwich, Songbird, Tiger Lillie, The Church Ladies, Women’s Intuition: A Novel, Songbird, The Living End

Visit her at her website.

Product Details

List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: NavPress Publishing Group (September 15, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1600062229
ISBN-13: 978-1600062223

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Monday, July 11, 6:30 a.m.

I awaken to a tap on my shoulder and open my eye. My right eye. See, these days it could be one of four people: Charley, Dad, Grampie, or Grammie.

“’Morning, dear!”

Grammie.

Oh well, might as well go for broke. I open the other eye.

“Did you sleep well?”

I shake my head and reach for my cat glasses. “Nope. I kept dreaming about Charley in Scotland.” We sent her off with her new beau, the amazing Anthony Harris, two days ago. “I imagined a road full of sheep chasing her down.”

“That would be silly. They would have to know she hates lamb chops.” Grammie sits on my bed. Yes, my bed. In their fabulous house. In my own wonderful room, complete with reproductions of the Barcelona chair and a platform bed of gleaming sanded mahogany. I burrow further into my white down comforter. I sweat like a pig at night, but I don’t care. A real bed, a bona fide comforter, and four pillows. Feather pillows deep enough to sink the Titanic in.

She pats my shoulder, her bangled wrists emitting the music of wooden jewelry. “Up and at ’em, Scotty. Your dad wants to be on the road by seven thirty.”

“I need a shower.”

“Hop to it then.”

Several minutes later, I revel in the glories of a real shower. Not the crazy little stall we have in the TrailMama, which Dad gassed up last night for our trip to Maine. Our trip to find Babette, my mother. Is she dead or alive? That’s what we’re going to find out.

It’s complicated.

The warm water slides over me from the top of my head on down, and I’ve found the coolest shampoo. It smells like limeade. I kid you not. It’s the greatest stuff ever.

Over breakfast, Grampie sits down with us and goes over the map to make certain Dad knows the best route. My father sits patiently, nodding as words like turnpike, bypass, and scenic route roll like a convoy out of Grampie’s mouth.

Poor Grampie. Dad is just the best at navigation and knows everything about getting from point A to point B, but I think Grampie wants to be a part of it. He hinted at us all going in the Beaver Marquis, their Luxury-with-a-capital-L RV, but Dad pretended not to get it.

Later, Dad said to me, “It’s got to be just us, Scotty. I love my mother and father, but some things just aren’t complete-family affairs.”

“I know. I think you’re right. And if it’s bad . . .”

He nods. “I’d just as soon they not be there while we fall apart.”

Right.

So then, I hop up into our RV, affectionately known as the TrailMama, Dad’s black pickup already hitched behind. (Charley’s kitchen trailer is sitting on a lot in storage at a nearby RV dealership, and good riddance. I’m hoping Charley never needs to use that thing again.) “Want me to drive?”

He laughs.

Yep. I still don’t have my license.

Man. But it’s been such a great month or so at the beach. So, okay, I don’t tan much really, but I do have a nice peachy glow.

I’ll take it.

And Grampie grilled a lot, and Grammie helped me sew a couple of vintage-looking skirts, and I’ve learned the basics of my harp.

I jump into the passenger’s seat, buckle in, and look over at my dad. “You really ready for this?” My heart speeds up. This is the final leg of a very long journey, and what’s at the end of the path will determine the rest of our lives.

He looks into my eyes. “Are you?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “But we don’t really have a choice, do we?”

“I can go alone.”

I shake my head. “No, Dad. Whatever we do, whatever happens from here on out, we do it together.”

“Deal.”

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Friday Findings

by 123pizza on October 10, 2008

I was playing around on deli.cio.us and found out that I can subscribe to tags. So, I decided to see how it works. I subscribed to the tags of sewing and knitting.

This is soooo much easier finding sites about sewing or knitting. Today I want to share with you some of the things I would like to sew at some time. Speaking of which, I really ought to check out Hancock Fabrics’s web site to see what they have on sale this week.

How to whip stich - This is for Best Friend. She knows how to sew but doesn’t know how to whip stitch. Me, when I needed to sew something it was always using a whip stitch because that’s all I knew.

Ironing Board Cover - My ironing board cover is about to bite the dust.

Machine Quilting 101 - I’m thinking about making a quilt for my bed and these instructions are wonderful. I think I might actually be able to do this.

Reversible Patchwork Bag - I think this bag would be excellent to make before I start on my quilt. This would give me practice and a chance to see if I really have the patience to see the quilt from start to finish.

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Something About My Family and Music

by 123pizza on October 9, 2008

I’m in the mood for some music today. What shall I listen to? Hmm, I’m not sure.

If I were my husband I’d be listening to Tom Waits. His favorite Tom Waits song is “Pony” but I couldn’t find a video for that one so I went with his second favorite song, “Hold On” (which is my favorite Tom Waits song).

If I were my eldest child I’d be listening to the Jonas Brothers. His favorite song is “Please Be Mine”.

If I were my middle child I’d be listening to whatever I was making up in my head at the time. Since it is totally random there’s no way for me to find a video of it for this post.

If I were my youngest child I’d choose the Jonas Brothers (since that’s what her older brother listens to). Although, she has been known to sing “Hey Baby” by No Doubt when she’s in the car and her mother is playing No Doubt over and over and over.

Since I’ve mentioned “Hey Baby” that’s what I will go with, especially since I have it playing in the background while I’m typing this last paragraph.

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Dude, She’s 3.

by 123pizza on October 8, 2008

Nine year old child (after seeing this commercial on TV): I need to buy E one of those so she can sell them outside in the winter.

I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly so I asked him to explain.

He wants her to make the cupcakes and sell them outside in the winter so he doesn’t have to share his money with her. You know, I can’t think of a single time he has ever had to share his money with her. Unless of course you count the money we use for the house payment, utilities, food, etc.

Oh and the sister he’s talking about, his only sister, she’s three. I’m pretty sure there are laws that protect her from child labor.

And why winter? Why not autumn, or spring, or summer? But winter?

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Why I Recycle

by 123pizza on October 7, 2008

Why do I recycle? Hmm. Well…let’s see. It started when I watched the movie, Idiocracy. I was amazed at the piles and piles of trash all over. Then there was my trip to the dump. I was amazed at the piles and piles of trash all over. Then I watched the movie, Wall-E. You guessed it…I was amazed at the piles and piles of trash all over.

Those three incidents were forever blazed in my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about those images. I started looking at my trash differently. It was no longer going somewhere to be magically whisked away. It was going somewhere to be buried and sit and sit and sit. I’m pretty sure most of my stuff wasn’t biodegradable.

I kept thinking about my trip to the dump. I went to the dump because I was moving and didn’t want to take that stuff with me. It was easier to throw it all in the back of a truck to take to the dump than to sort through it and give it to the Salvation Army.

So to the dump I went. Oh.my.gosh. At the dump all you do is stand in the back of the truck and toss your stuff out on the ground. There wasn’t a special place to put it, you just tossed and left, never to worry about it again. But I did worry about it. A lot. I kept thinking about it over and over. I kept thinking about how my selfishness and laziness just added to the problem.

After that trip, I was more aware of my surroundings. I started looking at what I was throwing away. I started looking into reusable bags. I started knitting market bags. I started looking into being more green. I started looking for a recycling center in my area. I started recycling. I started making a difference.

Photo credit:D’Arcy Norman

This post was cross-posted at the Green and Clean Mom Community.

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Sunday Photo

by 123pizza on October 5, 2008

While taking a walk with the kiddos last weekend we saw this turtle swimming in the pond. He was so cute! We stood there for quite some time watching him swim.

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Weight Loss Cycle and Not Trusting God

by 123pizza on October 4, 2008

I had a different post planned for today. It was all typed, edited, and scheduled to publish, but God had other plans.

Last night at Lifegroup, Rebecca gave us a challenge for the week: maintaining our hope and patience when things don’t happen in the time we want them to.

For each of us this means different things. For me, it means my weight. I have struggled with my weight for quite some time. Hmm, like more than a decade. I haven’t always been big, but I have struggled with my weight. For a while I thought I was fat so I was making myself throw up and trying to starve myself. I eventually got help for my eating disorder and I was pretty much okay with how I looked until I had my first child.

I had never learned how to lose weight safely so I didn’t know what to do. I was scared to try to lose weight because I didn’t want to spiral back into bulimia. I wasn’t fat, but I could stand to lose a few pounds but didn’t know how.

Then I had my second child and was at my all-time biggest ever. I actually had to buy plus-size clothes. This also sent my self-esteem plummeting because I no longer felt attractive or worthy. I knew I had to do something about my weight but still didn’t know what to do. A friend was taking pills to lose weight but I didn’t want to do that. I made a vow that I was going to lose weight the proper way no matter what it took.

I was doing pretty good there for awhile. I was eating better. I was exercising. Even though I fell off the wagon every now and then I was slowly losing weight. I was starting to feel attractive again and starting to like myself. Then I found out I was pregnant. Great. I was finally getting somewhere and I had to start gaining again.

Only I didn’t gain weight this time. I lost weight. I had gestational diabetes with my third pregnancy and it ended up being a blessing in disguise. I met with a nutritionist who put me on a diabetic diet and for the first time I learned how to eat to control my blood sugar. (I’m hypoglycemic.) I also needed to walk for 10 minutes after eating. After my meals I would hop on the treadmill for 10 minutes walking at a slow pace. The diabetic counselor told me it didn’t matter how fast I walked as long as I walked. Between those two things, I started losing some weight and was looking pretty good.

After my third child I suffered from postpartum depression and gained back all the weight. Not only did I gain it back but I gained back more. I was now at the same weight I was when I was at my largest. I had to start wearing plus-size clothes again and spiraled further into depression.

All the while I’m still trying to lose weight but having no success. I read weight loss books, tried to follow them, tried several Christian based weight loss programs (I even led one at our church) but to no avail. I gave up. I couldn’t lose weight. I had pretty much determined that I would remain big for the rest of my life. I wanted something different but it wasn’t working. I would still continue eating healthy and exercising but knew deep in my heart that it wouldn’t work. Nothing would.

Until this morning. I was thinking about the challenge and the connection between hope and patience. That’s when it hit me. I don’t trust God to help me lose weight. I didn’t think God was big enough or powerful enough to help me on my weight loss journey. I hadn’t ever included him in my weight loss plans. I thought I did and said I did but in reality I didn’t because I didn’t trust him. I have always tried to lose weight on my own.

Not only that but I didn’t have the patience to continue with my weight loss efforts. I would compare myself to others, get discouraged and give up. Like giving up will get me anywhere. After a few months I would be tired of not doing anything so I would start trying to lose weight again. It was a vicious cycle that I didn’t know how to stop. I still don’t know how to stop it.

I’m not sure how this revelation will affect my weight loss but for the first time in years I have hope. I have hope that one day the extra weight will be gone for good. It won’t be easy. I know that but I have hope. I have a God who cares and is bigger than the numbers on my scale.

Photo Credit: markhillary

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Friday Findings

by 123pizza on October 3, 2008

My kiddos have to practice math facts for 10 minutes a day as part of their homework. I get tired of having to fire problems off the top of my head and using flashcards so I spent some time looking for online help. I needed ideas on how to mix it up and not be doing the same thing day after day.

The following links are what I have been doing this week. Enjoy!

The Teachers’ Cafe - Not just for math! I used the math portion of it but will be returning to this site for other subjects.
Fact Family Addition and Subtraction - There is more to this site but I just used the addition game. I will eventually have my son play the telling time game but for now my focus is math.
Drill Sheets for Math - I like having simple drill sheets. I don’t really time the kiddos but it’s nice to know how many problems they can get done in 10 minutes.
Study Booklet - I loved this site! I got so many ideas of things to do with my son who is new to addition. Not only do I love the study book but I loved the touch points.
Math Magician Games - I have used this web site for about a year for reviewing math facts. It’s one site I keep coming back to over and over again.

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It’s Not About Me by Michelle Sutton

by 123pizza on October 2, 2008

This week, the

Christian Fiction Blog Alliance

is introducing

It’s Not About Me

Sheaf House Publishers (September 1, 2008)

by

Michelle Sutton

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Michelle Sutton has lived in Arizona and since 1991 and has two sons and a husband of 18 years. She began writing fiction in August 2003 when God inspired her to write a novel with realistic characters that would glorify Him. In 2004 she joined ACFW - American Christian Fiction Writers. In 2006 Michelle ran for Volunteer Officer on the ACFW Operating board and ACFW members elected her to serve a two year term. She sold her first manuscript Then Sings My Soul (now re-titled It’s Not About Me) to Sheaf House and her debut novel was released in Sept. 2008. The second book in the Second Glances series - It’s Not About Him - will be released the following fall (Sept. 2009).

Last, Michelle is Editor in Chief of the new Christian Fiction Online Magazine. The debut issue released in July 2008. The magazine is sponsored by the Christian Fiction Blog Alliance.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Annie has it all. She’s attractive, graduated with honors, was accepted at the college of her choice, has supportive parents, good friends, and a steady boyfriend who loves her. One night an unexpected visitor appears and Annie’s safe world is destroyed by a brutal attack. As she tries to pick up the pieces of her broken life, she is torn between two brothers, both of whom claim to love her. She is attracted to both, but which one does she love? How can she choose when her decision may cause a permanent rift between them? And more important, will she give her heart to the One who will sustain her even when human love fails.

“…the exquisitely written spiritual content shows the reader that redemption is available, no matter what the circumstances.”
- 4 Stars, Romantic Times!

Instead of dealing with timely issues like alcoholism, premarital sex and pornography in a preachy, oh-so-tired fashion, Michelle Sutton’s It’s Not About Me gets to the heart of the matter with a shocking dose of realism and poignant storytelling. From the first paragraph, Sutton weaves together a thoroughly entertaining story that’ll keep readers intrigued for the long haul as they get to know Annie, Dan, Tony and Susie—young adults that probably don’t look and sound all that different from themselves. Now that’s a seriously refreshing turn for Christian fiction.”
~Christa Ann Banister~, author of Around the World in 80 Dates, (NavPress 2007) and Blessed are the Meddlers (NavPress 2008)

It’s Not About Me is a wonderfully entertaining and deliciously suspenseful read that will keep you turning the pages. Sutton doesn’t back away from the drama and with all of the twists and turns, It’s Not About Me is hard to put down. I cannot wait for the sequel! Bravo!”
~Victoria Christopher Murray~, Essence best-selling author of multiple titles including The Ex Files and the upcoming YA series The Divine Divas

“Annie captured my heart on the first page and kept me enthralled to the very end. This edgy, yet surprisingly poignant story travels the inroads of intimate relationships – man to woman, brother to brother, parent to child, friend to friend. But especially satisfying is the author’s delicate handling of the relationship between a searching soul and the loving Savior who alone possesses the power to work all things out for the good. A terrific debut for Michelle Sutton. I can’t wait to read more from this talented author!”
~Virginia Smith~, author of Just As I Am and Sincerely, Mayla

“Michelle Sutton’s gritty writing style will very likely go straight to the hearts of teens, addressing what they deal with every day in what is all too often grim reality for our youth. Sutton is no doubt a refreshing and much needed voice in today’s YA fiction.”
~Tina Ann Forkner~, Author of Ruby Among Us
Waterbrook Press/Random House

If you would like to read the Prologue and first Chapter of It’s Not About Me, go HERE.

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Single Sashimi by Camy Tang

by 123pizza on October 1, 2008

It is time for the FIRST Blog Tour! On the FIRST day of every month we feature an author and his/her latest book’s FIRST chapter!

The feature author is:

and her book:

Single Sashimi
Zondervan (September 1, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Camy Tang is a FIRST Family Member! She also is a moderator for FIRST Wild Card Tours. She is a loud Asian chick who writes loud Asian chick-lit. She grew up in Hawaii, but now lives in San Jose, California, with her engineer husband and rambunctious poi-dog. In a previous life she was a biologist researcher, but these days she is surgically attached to her computer, writing full-time. In her spare time, she is a staff worker for her church youth group, and she leads one of the worship teams for Sunday service.

Sushi for One? (Sushi Series, Book One) was her first novel. Her second, Only Uni (Sushi Series, Book Two) was published in March of this year. The next book in the series, Single Sashimi (Sushi Series, Book Three) came out in September 2008!

Visit her at her website.

List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 336 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (September 1, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310274001
ISBN-13: 978-0310274001

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Single Sashimi
By
Camy Tang

Chapter one

Venus Chau opened the door to her aunt’s house and almost fainted.

“What died?” She exhaled sharply, trying to get the foul air out of her body before it caused cancer or something.

Her cousin Jennifer Lim entered the foyer with the look of an oni goblin about to eat someone. “She’s stinking up my kitchen.”

“Who?” Venus hesitated on the threshold, breathing clean night air before she had to close the door.

“My mother, who else?”

The ire in Jenn’s voice made Venus busy herself with kicking off her heels amongst the other shoes in the tile foyer. Hoo-boy, she’d never seen quiet Jenn this irate before. Then again, since Aunty Yuki had given her daughter the rule of the kitchen when she’d started cooking in high school, Jenn rarely had to make way for another cook.

“What is she cooking? Beef intestines?”

Jenn flung her arms out. “Who knows? Something Trish is supposed to eat.”

“But we don’t have to eat it, right? Right?”

“I’ll never become pregnant if I have to eat stuff like that.” Jenn whirled and stomped toward the kitchen.

Venus turned right into the living room where her very pregnant cousin Trish lounged on the sofa next to her boyfriend, Spenser. “Hey, guys.” Her gaze paused on their twined hands. It continued to amaze her that Spenser would date a woman pregnant with another man’s child. Maybe Venus shouldn’t be so cynical about the men she met. Here was at least one good guy.

Trish’s arms shot into the air like a Raiders’ cheerleader, nearly clocking Spenser in the eye. “I’m officially on maternity leave!”

Venus paused to clap. “So how did you celebrate?”

“I babysat Matthew all day today.” She smiled dreamily at Spenser at the mention of his son.

Venus frowned and landed her hands on her hips. “In your condition?”

Trish waved a hand. “He’s not that bad. He stopped swallowing things weeks ago.”

“I’m finally not wasting money on all those emergency room visits,” Spenser said.

“Besides, I got a book about how to help toddlers expect a new baby.” Trish bounced lightly on the sofa cushion in her excitement.

“And?” It seemed kind of weird to Venus, since Trish and Spenser weren’t engaged or anything. Yet.

Trish chewed her lip. “I don’t know if he totally understands, but at least it’s a start.”

A sense of strangeness washed over Venus as she watched the two of them, the looks they exchanged that weren’t mushy or intimate, just . . . knowing. Like mind reading. It made her feel alienated from her cousin for the first time in her life, and she didn’t really like it.

She immediately damped down the feeling. How could she begrudge Trish such a wonderful relationship? Venus was so selfish. She disgusted herself.

She looked around the living room. “Where is — ”

“Venus!” The childish voice rang down the short hallway. She stepped back into the foyer to see Spenser’s son, Matthew, trotting down the carpet with hands reached out to her. He grabbed her at the knees, wrinkling her silk pants, but she didn’t mind. His shining face looking up at her — way up, since she was the tallest of the cousins — made her feel like she was the only reason he lived and breathed. “Psycho Bunny?” he pleaded.

She pretended to think about it. His hands shook her pants legs to make her decide faster.

“Okay.”

He darted into the living room and plopped in front of the television, grabbing at the game controllers. The kid had it down pat — in less than a minute, the music for the Psycho Bunny video game rolled into the room.

Venus sank to the floor next to him.

“Jenn is totally freaking out.” Trish’s eyes had popped to the size of siu mai dumplings.

“What brought all this on?” Venus picked up the other controller.

“Well, Aunty Yuki had a doctor’s appointment today — ”

“Is she doing okay?” She chose the Bunny Foo-Foo character for the game just starting.

“Clean bill of health. Cancer’s gone, as far as they can tell.”

“So that’s why she’s taken over Jenn’s domain?”

Trish rubbed her back and winced. “She took one look at me and decided I needed something to help the baby along.”

Jenn huffed into the living room. “She’s going to make me ruin the roast chicken!”

Venus ignored her screeching tone. “Sit down. You’re not going to make her hurry by hovering.” She and Matthew both jumped over the snake pit and landed in the hollow tree.

Jenn flung herself into an overstuffed chair and dumped her feet on the battered oak coffee table.

Venus turned to glance at the foyer. No Nikes. “Where’s Lex?”

“Late. Where else?” Jenn snapped.

“I thought Aiden was helping her be better about that.”

“He’s not a miracle worker.” Spenser massaged Trish’s back.

“I have to leave early.” Venus stretched her silk-clad feet out, wriggling her toes. Her new stilettos looked great but man, they hurt her arches.

“Then you might not eat at all.” Jenn crossed her arms over her chest.

Venus speared her with a glance like a stainless steel skewer. “Chill, okay Cujo?”

Jenn pouted and scrunched further down in the chair.

Venus ignored her and turned back to the game. Her inattention had let Matthew pick up the treasure chest. “I have to work on a project.”

“For work?”

“No, for me.” Only the Spiderweb, the achievement of her lifetime, a new tool that would propel her to the heights of video game development stardom. Which was why she’d kept it separate from her job-related things — she didn’t even use her company computer when she worked on it, only her personal laptop.

A new smell wafted into the room, this one rivaling the other in its stomach-roiling ability. Venus waved her hand in front of her face.

“Pffaugh! What is she cooking?”

Trish’s face had turned the color of green tea. “You’re lucky you don’t have to eat it. Whatever it is, it ain’t gonna stay down for long.”

“Just say you still have morning sickness.”

“In my ninth month?”

Venus shrugged.

The door slammed open. “Hey, guys — blech.”

Venus twisted around to see her cousin Lex doubled over, clenching her washboard stomach (Venus wished she could have one of those) and looking like she’d hurled up all the shoes littering the foyer floor.

Lex’s boyfriend Aiden grabbed her waist to prevent her from nosediving into the tile. “Lex, it’s not that bad.”

“The gym locker room smells better.” Lex used her toes to pull off her cross-trainers without bothering to untie them. “The men’s locker room.”

“It’s not me,” Jenn declared. “It’s Mom, ruining all my best pots.”

“What is she doing? Killing small animals on the stovetop?”

“Something for the baby.” Trish tried to smile, but it looked more like a wince.

“As long as we don’t have to eat it.” Lex dropped her slouchy purse on the floor and walked into the living room.

Aunty Yuki appeared behind her in the doorway, bearing a steaming bowl. “Here, Trish. Drink this.” The brilliant smile on her wide face eclipsed her tiny stature.

Venus smelled something pungent, like when she walked into a Chinese medicine shop with her dad. A bolus of air erupted from her mouth, and she coughed. “What is that?” She dropped the game controller.

“Pig’s brain soup.”

Trish’s smile hardened to plastic. Lex grabbed her mouth. Spenser — who was Chinese and therefore had been raised with the weird concoctions — sighed. Aiden looked at them all like they were funny-farm rejects.

Venus closed her eyes, tightened her mouth, and concentrated on not gagging. Good thing her stomach was empty.

Aunty Yuki’s mouth pursed. “What’s wrong? My mother-in-law made me eat pig’s brain soup when I was a couple weeks from delivering Jennifer.”

That’s what you ruined my pots with?” Jennifer steamed hotter than the bowl of soup.

Her mom caught the yakuza-about-to-hack-your-finger-off expression on Jenn’s face. Aunty Yuki paused, then backtracked to the kitchen. With the soup bowl, thankfully.

“Papa?” Matthew’s voice sounded faint.

Venus turned.

“Don’t feel good.” He clutched his poochy tummy.

“Oh, no.” Spenser grabbed his son and headed out of the living room.

Then the world exploded.

Just as they passed into the foyer, Matthew threw up onto the tiles.

Lex, with her weak stomach when it came to bodily fluids, took one look and turned pasty.

A burning smell and a few cries sounded from the kitchen.

Trish sat up straighter than a Buddha and clenched her rounded abdomen. “Oh!”

Spenser held his crying son as he urped up the rest of his afternoon snack. Lex clapped a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from following Matthew’s example. Jenn started for the kitchen, but then Matthew’s mess blocking the foyer stopped her. Trish groaned and curled in on herself, clutching her tummy.

Venus shot to her feet. She wasn’t acting Game Lead at her company for nothing.

“You.” She pointed to Jenn. “Get to the kitchen and send your mom in here for Trish.” Jenn leaped over Matthew’s puddle and darted away. “And bring paper towels for the mess!”

“You,” she flung at Spenser. “Take Matthew to the bathroom.”

He gestured to the brand new hallway carpet.

Oh no, Aunty Yuki would have a fit. But it couldn’t be helped. “If he makes a mess on the carpet, we’ll just clean it up later.”

He didn’t hesitate. He hustled down the hallway with Matthew in his arms.

Venus kicked the miniscule living room garbage basket closer to Lex. “Hang your head over that.” Not that it would hold more than spittle, but it was better than letting Lex upchuck all over the plush cream carpet. Why did Lex, tomboy and jock, have to go weak every time something gross happened?

“You.” Venus stabbed a manicured finger at Aiden. “Get your car, we’re taking Trish to the hospital.”

He didn’t jump at her command. “After one contraction?”

Trish moaned, and Venus had a vision of the baby flying out of her in the next minute. She pointed to the door again. “Just go!”

Aiden shrugged and slipped out the front door, muttering to himself.

“You.” She stood in front of Trish, who’d started Lamaze breathing through her pursed lips. “Uh . . .”

Trish peered up at her.

“Um . . . stop having contractions.”

Trish rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak through her pursed lips.

Venus ignored her and went to kneel over Matthew’s rather watery puddle, which had spread with amoeba fingers reaching down the lines of grout. Lex’s purse lay nearby, so she rooted in it for a tissue or something to start blotting up the mess.

Footsteps approaching. Before she could raise her head or shout a warning, Aunty Yuki hurried into the foyer. “What’s wron — !”

It was like a Three Stooges episode. Aunty Yuki barreled into Venus’s bent figure. She had leaned over Matthew’s mess to protect anyone from stepping in it, but it also made her an obstacle in the middle of the foyer.

“Ooomph!” The older woman’s feet — shod in cotton house slippers, luckily, and not shoes — jammed into Venus’s ribs. She couldn’t see much except a pair of slippers leaving the floor at the same time, and then a body landing on the living room carpet on the other side of her. Ouch.

“Are you okay?” Venus twisted to kneel in front of her, but she seemed slow to rise.

“Venus, here’re the paper towels — ”

Jenn’s voice in the foyer made Venus whirl on the balls of her feet and fling her hands up. “Watch out!”

Jenn stopped just in time. Her toes were only inches away from Matthew’s mess, her body leaning forward. Her arms whirled, still clutching the towels, like a cheerleader and her pom-poms.

“Jenn.” Spenser’s voice coming down the hallway toward the foyer. “Where are the — ”

“Stop!” Venus and Jenn shouted at the same time.

Spenser froze, his foot hovering above a finger of the puddle that had stretched toward the hallway. “Ah. Okay. Thanks.” He lowered his foot on the clean tile to the side.

Aiden opened the front door. “The car’s out front — ” The sight of them all left him speechless.

Trish had started to hyperventilate, her breath seething through her teeth. “Will somebody do something?!”

Aunty Yuki moaned from her crumpled position on the floor.

Smoke started pouring from the kitchen, along with the awful smell of burned . . . something that wasn’t normal food.

Venus snatched the paper towels from Jenn. “Kitchen!” Jenn fled before she’d finished speaking. “What do you need?” Venus barked at Spenser.

“Extra towels.”

“Guest bedroom closet, top shelf.”

He headed back down the hall. Venus turned to Aiden and swept a hand toward Aunty Yuki on the living room floor. “Take care of her, will you?”

“What about me?” Trish moaned through a clenched jaw.

“Stop having contractions!” Venus swiped up the mess on the tile before something worse happened, like someone stepped in it and slid. That would just be the crowning cherry to her evening. Even when she wasn’t at work, she was still working.

“Are you okay, Aunty?” She stood with the sodden paper towels.

Aiden had helped her to a seat next to Lex, who was ashen-faced and still leaning over the tiny trash can. Aside from a reddish spot on Aunty Yuki’s elbow, she seemed fine.

Jenn entered the living room, her hair wild and a distinctive burned smell sizzling from her clothes. “My imported French saucepan is completely blackened!” But she had enough sense not to glare at her parent as she probably wanted to. Aunty Yuki suddenly found
the wall hangings fascinating.

Venus started to turn toward the kitchen to throw away the paper towels she still held. “Well, we have to take Trish to the hospital — ”

“Actually . . .” Trish’s breathing had slowed. “I think it’s just a false alarm.”

Venus turned to look at her. “False alarm? Pregnant women have those?”

“It happened a couple days ago too.”

“What?” Venus almost slammed her fist into her hip, but remembered the dirty paper towels just in time. Good thing too, because she had on a Chanel suit.

Trish gave a long, slow sigh. “Yup, they’re gone. That was fast.” She smiled cheerfully.

Venus wanted to scream. This was out of her realm. At work, she was used to grabbing a crisis at the throat and wrestling it to submission. This was somewhere Trish was heading without her, and the thought both frightened and unnerved her. She shrugged it off. “Well . . . Aunty — ”

“I’m fine, Venus.” Aunty Yuki inspected her elbow. “Jennifer, get those Japanese Salonpas patches — ”

“Mom, they stink.” Jenn’s stress over her beautiful kitchen made her more belligerent than Venus had ever seen her before. Not that the camphor patches could smell any worse than the burned Chinese-old-wives’-pregnancy-food permeating the house.

At the sound of the word Salonpas, Lex pinched her lips together but didn’t say anything.

Aunty Yuki gave Jenn a limpid look. “The Salonpas gets rid of the pain.”

“I’ll get it.” Aiden headed down the hallway to get the adhesive patches.

“In the hall closet.” Jenn’s words slurred a bit through her tight jaw.

Distraction time. Venus tried to smile. “Aunty, if you’re okay, then let’s eat.”

Jenn’s eyes flared neon red. “Can’t.”

“Huh?”

Somebody turned off the oven.” Jenn frowned at her mother, who tactfully looked away. “Dinner won’t be for another hour.” She stalked back to the kitchen.

Even with the nasty smell, Venus’s stomach protested its empty state. “It’s already eight o’clock.”

“Suck it up!” Jenn yelled from the kitchen.

It was going to be a long night.

***

Venus needed a Reese’s peanut butter cup.

No, a Reese’s was bad. Sugar, fat, preservatives, all kinds of chemicals she couldn’t even pronounce.

Oooh, but it would taste so good . . .

No, she equated Reese’s cups with her fat days. She was no longer fat. She didn’t need a Reese’s.

But she sure wanted one after such a hectic evening with her cousins.

She trudged up the steps to her condo. Home. Too small to invite people over, and that was the way she liked it. Her haven, where she could relax and let go, no one to see her when she was vulnerable –

Her front door was ajar.

Her limbs froze mid-step, but her heart rat-tat-tatted in her chest like a machine gun. Someone. Had. Broken. Into. Her. Home.

Her hand started to shake. She clenched it to her hip, crushing the silk of her pants. What to do? He might still be there. Pepper spray. In her purse. She searched in her bag and finally found the tiny bottle. Her hand trembled so much, she’d be more likely to spritz herself than the intruder.

Were those sounds coming from inside? She reached out a hand, but couldn’t quite bring herself to push the door open further.

Stupid, call the police! She fumbled with the pepper spray so she could extract her cell phone. Dummy, don’t pop yourself in the eye with that stuff! She switched the spray to her other hand while her thumb dialed 9 - 1 - 1. Her handbag’s leather straps dug into her elbow.

Thump! That came from her living room! Footsteps. Get away from the door! She stumbled backwards, but remembering the stairs right behind her, she tried to stop herself from tumbling down. Her ankle tilted on her stilettos, and she fell sideways to lean against the wall. The footsteps approached her open door.

“9 - 1 - 1, what’s your emergency?”

She raised her hand with the bottle of pepper spray. “Someone’s — ”

The door swung open.

“Edgar!” The cell phone dropped with a clatter, but she kept a firm grip on the pepper spray, suddenly tempted to use it.

One of her junior programmers stood in her open doorway.

Copyright (c) 2008 by Camy Tang
Requests for information should be addressed to:
Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530

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