My Review: Why I read this:The blurb sounded fascinating. I also saw it compared to some of Frank Peretti's works and Frank Peretti is the author that really got me into the supernatural Christian genre.
How is the novel driven: It's a toss-up, characters are important, but the plot is the main driving force I believe.
My thoughts: The Resurrection is an intriguging book. At times I was a little lost, but most of the time, it had me hanging onto the edge of my seat. You have some interesting and typical characters. A mom with a bad hip she's had since birth, who pretty much does what is expected, is involved with a prayer group, is married and has two sons. There is a minister who is just going through the motions, he lost his way years ago and can't seem to find his way back to God. There are two other women in the prayer group with the main woman, Ruby, and one is the church secretary and there are a lot of strange goings-on that no one seems to notice in the town of Stonetree.
Looking back and writing the review - there is nothing really big that happens, just a lot of little things that come together to make the book. And those things make it interesting. This is one of those books where you do have to believe in the supernatural in it's good and evil forms being at work in the world, which I do. I found the plot fascinating and love the type of stories where a small town is the battleground for good and evil and how everyday characters can make the difference with God's help. The Resurrection is this type of book.
Mr. Duran's writing is wonderful - his words flow from the page and I never found myself going back to a passage to read it again to figure out what it meant. He is able to put his words on the page in such a magical way that you don't even realize you have read 100 pages in one sitting.
I look forward to reading more of his works and thinking on the ending and the significance of The Resurrection for some time in the future. I like a book that does that, makes me think and The Resurrection definitely does.
My Rating: 4.25/5.0
About the Book:
When Ruby Case, an unassuming crippled woman, inexplicably raises
a boy from the dead, she creates uproar in the quiet coastal town of Stonetree. Some brand her a witch, others a miracle worker. Yet Reverend
Ian Clark could care less. Dogged by demons and immersed in self-pity,
Clark is being unwittingly drawn into a secret religious order--one
that threatens his very life. But he's about to get a wake-up call.
Together,
Ruby and Reverend Clark are thrust into a search for answers... and a
collision with unspeakable darkness. For behind the quaint tourist
shops and artist colonies lies a history of deceit. And a presence
more malignant than anything they can imagine. Yet a battle is
brewing, the resurrection is the first volley, and the unlikely duo are
the only ones who can save them. But can they overcome their own
brokenness in time to stop the evil, or will they be its next victim?
About the Author:
Mike Duran was a finalist in Faith in Fiction's inaugural short story
contest and was chosen as one of ten authors to be published in Infuze
Magazine’s 2005 print anthology. He is author of the short story “En
Route to Inferno,” which appeared in Coach’s Midnight Diner: Back from
the Dead edition, and received the Editor’s Choice award for his
creative nonfiction essay titled “The Ark,” published in the Summer 2.3
Issue of Relief Journal. In between blogs, he also writes a monthly
column for Novel Journey and has served as editor on the Midnight
Diner’s editorial team. Duran is an ordained minister and lives with his
wife of 29 years and four grown children in Southern California.
***I received this book from the publisher through FIRST Wild Card Tours for an honest review. I was not compensated in any other way except receiving the book for free. I do not receive money for my amazon links since I live in NC (something about some law), so they are up purely for my readers to have a place to check out the book.***
It's time for another giveaway hop. This one is organized by Inspired Kathy of the I Am A Reader Not a Writer blog which I really enjoy. I'm keeping this one simple, just fill out the form, the only thing you have to do is be a follower, since it's a follower love hop :)
So what can you win?
Prize #1 Arc of The Demon Trapper's Daughter by Jana Oliver (see my review here)
Riley Blackthorne just needs a chance to prove herself – and that’s exactly what the demons are counting on…
Seventeen-year-old
Riley, the only daughter of legendary Demon Trapper, Paul Blackthorne,
has always dreamed of following in her father's footsteps. The good
news is, with human society seriously disrupted by economic upheaval and
Lucifer increasing the number of demons in all major cities, Atlanta’s
local Trappers’ Guild needs all the help they can get – even from a
girl. When she’s not keeping up with her homework or trying to manage
her growing crush on fellow apprentice, Simon, Riley’s out saving
distressed citizens from foul-mouthed little devils – Grade One
Hellspawn only, of course, per the strict rules of the Guild. Life’s
about as normal as can be for the average demon-trapping teen.
But
then a Grade Five Geo-Fiend crashes Riley’s routine assignment at a
library, jeopardizing her life and her chosen livelihood. And, as if
that wasn’t bad enough, sudden tragedy strikes the Trappers’ Guild,
spinning Riley down a more dangerous path than she ever could have
imagined. As her whole world crashes down around her, who can Riley
trust with her heart – and her life?
Prize #2 ARC of Conor Grennan's Little Princes, which you know I have raved about and have given away a hardcover copy of.
One Person Can Make a Difference
In search of adventure, twenty-nine-year-old Conor Grennan traded his
day job for a year-long trip around the globe, a journey that began with
a three-month stint volunteering at the Little Princes Children’s Home,
an orphanage in war-torn Nepal.
Conor was initially reluctant to
volunteer, unsure whether he had the proper skill, or enough passion,
to get involved in a developing country in the middle of a civil war.
But he was soon overcome by the herd of rambunctious, resilient children
who would challenge and reward him in a way that he had never imagined.
When Conor learned the unthinkable truth about their situation, he was
stunned: The children were not orphans at all. Child traffickers were
promising families in remote villages to protect their children from the
civil war—for a huge fee—by taking them to safety. They would then
abandon the children far from home, in the chaos of Nepal’s capital,
Kathmandu.
For Conor, what began as a footloose adventure becomes
a commitment to reunite the children he had grown to love with their
families, but this would be no small task. He would risk his life on a
journey through the legendary mountains of Nepal, facing the dangers of a
bloody civil war and a debilitating injury. Waiting for Conor back in
Kathmandu, and hopeful he would make it out before being trapped in by
snow, was the woman who would eventually become his wife and share his
life’s work.
Little Princes is a true story of families
and children, and what one person is capable of when faced with
seemingly insurmountable odds. At turns tragic, joyful, and hilarious, Little Princes is a testament to the power of faith and the ability of love to carry us beyond our wildest expectations.
Prize #3 The Resurrection by Mike Duran (a very interesting book)
When
Ruby Case, an unassuming crippled woman, inexplicably raises a boy
from the dead, she creates uproar in the quiet coastal town of
Stonetree. Some brand her a witch, others a miracle worker. Yet Reverend
Ian Clark could care less. Dogged by demons and immersed in self-pity,
Clark is being unwittingly drawn into a secret religious order--one
that threatens his very life. But he's about to get a wake-up call.
Together,
Ruby and Reverend Clark are thrust into a search for answers... and a
collision with unspeakable darkness. For behind the quaint tourist
shops and artist colonies lies a history of deceit. And a presence
more malignant than anything they can imagine. Yet a battle is
brewing, the resurrection is the first volley, and the unlikely duo are
the only ones who can save them. But can they overcome their own
brokenness in time to stop the evil, or will they be its next victim?
Giveaway open US/Canada only (sorry international - next time I'll open up international). Runs from February 8th - February 13th at midnight. I'll draw the winners on Monday the 14th :) You can enter for one, two or all three of the prizes. Fill out the form and if you can't see the form, you can find it here.
Make sure to check out the other 225+ blogs on this hop after you enter mine, see the linky below the form.
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!
***Special thanks to Anna Coelho Silva | Publicity Coordinator, Book Group | Strang Communications for sending me a review copy.***
***My Review will follow later today***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Mike Duran was a finalist in Faith in Fiction's inaugural short story contest and was chosen as one of ten authors to be published in Infuze Magazine’s 2005 print anthology. He is author of the short story “En Route to Inferno,” which appeared in Coach’s Midnight Diner: Back from the Dead edition, and received the Editor’s Choice award for his creative nonfiction essay titled “The Ark,” published in the Summer 2.3 Issue of Relief Journal. In between blogs, he also writes a monthly column for Novel Journey and has served as editor on the Midnight Diner’s editorial team. Duran is an ordained minister and lives with his wife of 29 years and four grown children in Southern California.
In the graveyard overlooking the city of Stonetree, a petrified oak broods. It’s a monstrous thing, not just because of its size, but because of who was murdered there. When Ruby Case limped into church that spring morning, she was not thinking about haunted trees. Mother of two young boys and wife to a backslidden believer, she faithfully prays for God’s visitation upon the city. Yet when she inexplicably raises a boy from the dead, Ruby gets more than she bargained for. The resurrection creates uproar in the quiet coastal town, turning Ruby into both a celebrity and a scapegoat. When Reverend Ian Clark joins Ruby in a search for answers it leads to a collision with unspeakable darkness. Together, they quickly realize that Ruby woke more than a dead boy, and the secrets she unleashed now threaten to destroy them all. Can they overcome their own brokenness before they become victims of an insidious evil?
Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 320 pages
Publisher: Realms (February 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 161638204X
ISBN-13: 978-1616382049
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
No sooner had he removed the chunk of jet-black obsidian from atop his sermon notes than Reverend Ian Clark realized he had a visitor.
A ripple of electricity swept through the room, and the atmosphere tingled in its wake. It was a precursor to the manifestation, further evidence that his shrinking imagination—his world without wonder—had been invaded. The hair along Clark’s forearms bristled, and his body grew tense. He knew what was coming. The stench of burning flesh fouled the air, forcing his throat into a knot. He stood rigid by the filing cabinet.
Mr. Cellophane had arrived.
Clark swallowed hard, his mind churning in indecision. Should he look at the spirit? Sometimes if he ignored it, the thing would go away, seeping back into the netherworld from where it came. But he didn’t have time to waste. The girls would be here any minute, so he had to hurry. He gritted his teeth and turned toward the far end of the bookshelves, glowering.
The specter rose in the corner—its usual spot—and watched him with sallow eyes. An opaque, gauzy sheath seemed to cloak the presence. Pale organs throbbed beneath its translucent skin. It appeared to be a young man, or the remnants of one, caught between worlds. A demon or ghost, he speculated, maybe a transient from a parallel plane. How it had come to haunt the church, Clark could not say. Nor did he really care.
He’d been forced to call it something, what with the frequency of its visits and his interminable need to bleach existence of its mystery. Beings aren’t anonymous, he often reasoned. Amoebas, yes. As far as Clark could tell, Mr. Cellophane was more than an amoeba or an ectoplasmic phenomenon. His repeated attempts to evict the entity had proven futile—no doubt an extension of his spiritual impotence. But Clark was history; soon the ministry would be nothing more than a bad dream. As far as he was concerned, the swirling bag of bones could rot over there.
The apparition rose to the ceiling and hovered, undulating; its head tilted forward, a brooding presence in the corner of the church office. Elastic arms braided with sinews dangled at its side as it stared dispassionately at the minister.
That look—that pleading, defenseless gaze—always unnerved Clark.
He wiped the moisture from his eyes and, with a type of resolute indifference, snatched his notes from the cabinet. He scowled at the glassy wraith—a childish, demoralized pout—and turned away. As he went to the coat rack and removed his black leather jacket, he sensed the sad, empty eyes following him. He flung the jacket over his shoulder and marched toward the exit.
“Leave me alone,” he muttered.
He marched out of his office and slammed the door. Clark stormed past Vinyette’s desk, dragging cords of the fetid vapors with him. Opening the front door, he peered into a dense spring fog. Intermittent droplets pattered the welcome mat, and something rustled in the camphor branches. Other than that, the parking lot was silent.
A groan of relief left him. At least he didn’t have to deal with Ruby and her fanatical entourage. Clark locked the door, rolled his notes into a tight baton, and plunged into the misty veil.
A chill clung to the church office, as usual. Ruby Case shivered and yanked the sleeves of her sweat jacket over her wrists. Why was it always so cold in this building?
Once again it was just the three of them, but Ruby didn’t mind. She had given up trying to generate enthusiasm in Canyon Springs Community Church. In a way she preferred the anonymity of her little prayer group. Vinyette, on the other hand, used it as motivation. “Goliath went down with one stone,” she’d say. “So’s the three of us should do some damage.” Vinyette was not one to aim low. For Ruby, it was more about doing right than getting payback. The fact that her two best friends shared the burden every Sunday morning before church made the commitment a lot easier.
She slipped her eyes open and peeked at them. The girls sat as they always did—Vinyette propped forward with her elbows on her thighs, rocking back and forth, the tattoo on her bicep in full display, and Marje at attention, hands folded on her lap like a prim schoolgirl, eyes squeezed into a fine line of lashes. Vinyette had the lead—her natural position. Ruby smiled and shut her eyes again. She needed to concentrate and stop letting her mind wander.
As she settled in, something brushed past and sent goose bumps skittering up her spine. She thrust her eyes open, fully expecting to see someone standing near. There was no one. Weird.
Suddenly her insides somersaulted.
Ruby leaned back, forcing a metallic groan from the folding chair. She picked at her jeans, waiting, hoping for the wave of nausea to go away. Instead a flush of warmth cascaded over her, and the room turned fuzzy.
She unzipped her jacket and shook the collar of her shirt to let some air in. What was going on? Ruby blinked hard, trying to regain her mental equilibrium. She wasn’t one to not be in control, and this, well, this wouldn’t do. Her scalp tingled, as if invisible fingers caressed her hair. Maybe this was premature menopause. Like fifteen years premature. She frowned at the thought and kept flapping her collar.
That’s when an image sprung into her mind, sharp and inescapable, and snatched her breath away.
Ruby slowly rose with one hand over her mouth, gawking at the vibrant impression that sketched itself in her mind’s eye. She fumbled behind her for the chair, trying to steady herself, trying to comprehend what she was seeing, what she was feeling.
“Speak to him, Lord,” Vinyette prayed in her slight Southern drawl, unaware of Ruby teetering in the circle. “Would you please get that man’s attention?” Marje nodded in agreement, her gold hoops swinging in confirmation.
Ruby swayed, fighting to retain control of her senses. “The boys, Vin,” she mumbled with a lightheaded lilt. “Can you... ”
Vinyette snapped her eyes open and stopped rocking. She shouted something and leaped forward, grappling for Ruby, but she wasn’t fast enough. Ruby collapsed. Her head struck the chair and sent it clattering. Then her body thudded to the carpet and she gasped.
Formless figures and indistinct sounds whirled around her, but the image remained. She lay spellbound, captivated by the bizarre vision.
It was stark in its simplicity: an immense gray tree with barren, arthritic limbs tilted on a high hill. Behind it stretched an unending curtain of crimson sky.
She commanded her body to move, but it could not. Even her heart seemed to freeze at the sight of the unfolding revelation.
The tree towered over her, its skeletal limbs like a vast umbrella speckled with blackbirds. She lay mesmerized, not at all fearful, just captivated by the terrible dream. As she studied it, her thoughts went to a single leaf blooming on a craggy bough, bright and green like newly sprung grass. It seemed incongruent, so out of place on the pale dead branch, like a glorious banner unfurling in some bomb-blasted war zone.
Ruby’s bad leg lay crumpled underneath her. Someone wrestled it free and hovered overhead, shouting gibberish. Just behind her right ear a hot, sharp pinging began and tugged her back to reality. The vision dimmed, ebbed back into the recess of her psyche, the fuzz cleared, and she recognized her friend.
“Breathe, Ruby!” Vinyette’s forearm quivered, and the tattoo-green barbed wire shown under her receding shirtsleeve. If Reverend Clark were here, he’d make her cover the darned thing. “Call them. Hurry!” Vinyette ordered someone. “Breathe!”
“No,” Ruby gasped, struggling to sit up. “No.”
“Stay down.” Vinyette placed her trembling hand flat against Ruby’s tummy with the perfect amount of pressure.
“I can’t find the phone.” Marje stumbled past them in her heels, sending a stapler tumbling off Vinyette’s desk followed by fluttering papers.
“Then use your cell, Marje. C’mon!”
“No.” Ruby groaned, pushed aside Vinyette’s hand and sat up, still loopy. “I’m all right.”
“All right, my butt!” Vinyette glared at her. “You fainted. Nearly cracked your head open.”
Ruby touched the knot behind her ear and grimaced. The image of the tree finally faded. The coffee pot gurgled and the aroma hit her, as did a faint whiff of smoke. She wiped moisture from her eyes, drew a deep breath, and the church office came alive again. The lime green, low-back leather chair, excavated by Vinyette from some vintage thrift store, assured Ruby she was back on Earth.
“Here! Found it!” Marje held the cordless up. “Should I call?”
Vinyette stood and fidgeted with her turquoise rings, one after the other, biting her lip.
“No, Marje, I’ll be OK.” Ruby patted the back of her head to ensure her ponytail was intact. Marje stood ogling, and Vinyette knelt next to Ruby. They watched as she sat and brushed carpet fibers off her jeans. Great! She was now officially something she hated most—the center of attention.
Ruby drew her legs up and struggled to her feet.
“Careful.” Vinyette had her by the elbow.
Marje rushed over, picked up the chair, and steadied it behind Ruby.
“Here,” Vinyette said, “sit down. I’ll get you some water.”
She stomped across the room in her cowboy boots, plucked a paper cup from the water dispenser, and filled it. As she did, Ruby squinted and scanned the office to make sure the fuzziness was gone.
Vinyette returned and extended the cup, her long auburn hair gracing her lean frame. “What happened? Good Lord, Ruby. You scared the wits outta us.”
Ruby savored the cool water, which gave her time to consider her options. She’d had intuitions before, subtle discernments about people or events. Her husband, Jack, called it her baloney detector. Sometimes harebrained words would pop into her mind, real off-the-wall like. Of course, she refused to consider herself psychic or profess some otherworldly calibration, but no amount of dismissal had stifled the gift.
Still, she’d never experienced anything like this.
She finished the water, brought the cup down, and squinted. “Is something burning? That smell. I can barely... ”
Vinyette and Marje looked at each other and started sniffing the air like a couple of hound dogs. After a moment, Vinyette shrugged. “I don’t think so.” Then she pointed to the cup. “Do you want some more?”
“Please.” Ruby coveted the chance to stall.
Spinning on the toe of her boot, Vinyette clomped to the cooler again and refilled the cup.
Ruby surveyed her nails for damage as she pondered her next step. She’d heard about things like this before. Trances and ecstatic visions, however, were the stuff of religious wackos. The fanatics up in Northfork were always touting premonitions and foreign tongues. Once they announced that God had turned some members’ fillings into gold. The ensuing media curiosity was short-lived when the church refused to have the miracle verified. Of course, this only buttressed Jack’s cynical sentiments. He wondered aloud about hillbillies actually having enough teeth to turn to gold and why God should bother with starvation in sub-Saharan Africa when some yokel needed precious metals gracing his diseased gums. That was Jack. As much as she believed in miracles and hated validating her husband’s warped sense of humor, Ruby was hard-pressed to concede that kind of miracle. Besides, if Reverend Clark learned that a parishioner of his church had had some wild vision, he would have a field day dissecting it—that is, after the board’s inquisition. She clucked her tongue as she spotted a chip in the polish on her right index finger.
Vinyette returned, and Ruby took the water and sipped it. Should she tell them? The thought made her stomach somersault again. Why not? Vinyette and Marje knew how to keep a secret. They had proven that. However, something this big always leaked out. The last thing Ruby Case wanted to do was start a scene. Besides, she needed a better handle on this before she went yakking.
“You said something about the boys?” Marje peered at Ruby. “Right before you—”
“That’s right!” Ruby nodded enthusiastically. “That’s right. They’ve been sick. Sean brought something home from preschool, and I must’ve got it.” She smiled sheepishly.
“Yeah, but you passed out.” Vinyette sounded skeptical. “That’s it. I’m getting my truck and driving you home. You can have Jack take you to the doctor.” She snatched her keys from the desk, jangled them, and arched her eyebrows in her usual mother-knows-best expression.
Ruby scrunched her lips. “Mmm, well... ”
“Don’t you dare.”
The haunting dreamscape lingered—she could feel it. The invisible fingers were nearby, waiting to draw Ruby back.
Gulping the last of the water, she crumpled the paper cup in her fist. “I just...I probably caught something, Vin. I’m feeling better now.” She studied the chip in her soft ivory polish and said unconvincingly, “Really.”
The Resurrection by Mike Duran
Realms
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