Showing posts with label award winner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label award winner. Show all posts
Monday, January 11, 2010
Cornhusker Janna Wins Book
Congratulations to Janna of Cornhusker Academy, who has won the drawing for The Wordsmith, the Kid and the Electrolux. Sadly, there wasn't much competition, even including the other places I blog and other CFRB sites. I only hope more people wll consider this book than those who responded. It is well worth your while.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
MOHAMED'S MOON--CFRB Blog Tour
Mohamed's Moon
by Keith Clemons
This month, CFRB presents Mohamed's Moon by Keith Clemons.
About the Book:
Two brothers separated at birth grow up worlds apart. Outwardly, they're exactly alike, but inwardly, nothing is the same. One is a devotee of fundamentalist Islam; the other, a Christian. In this modern-day Cain and Abel story, the lines are drawn not just over whose God is right, but also over the fact that they're both in love with the same girl.
It's a conflict with grave repercussions, little hope of resolution, and time is running out. In the background, a plan has been set in motion that will bring the United States government to its knees. Will an unexpected visitation reconcile the brothers in time to save the woman they love--and ultimately, themselves--from the coming devastation?
In his award-winning style, author Keith Clemons delivers a profound comparison between Christianity and Islam, a dichotomy of life versus death, love versus hate, and grace versus legalism. Mohamed's Moon will plunge you into a world where hatred and heinous acts are justified. But if hatred is potent, it pales in comparison to the power of God's love.
About the Author:
Keith Clemons, a native of Southern California, is an alumnus of California State University - Fullerton where he earned a degree in English literature. He lives with his wife, Kathryn, in Caledon, Ontario, Canada. His four previous novels, Angel in the Alley, If I Should Die, These Little Ones and Above the Stars, have accumulated a total of six writing awards.
Barnes and Noble, Christianbook.com and Amazon.
Check out these other member blogs this week for more info.
As I feel very strongly about this book, I will be drawing a name to receive a copy. ALL comments left on any of the CFRB blogs (concerning Keith Clemons or Mohamed's Moon) will be included in the drawing. The winner will be chosen on September 14th. Ironically, September 11th will fall during the blog tour.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
SAVE MY CHILDREN: The Story of Bethany House in Canada
Save My Children
by Emily Wierenga
by Emily Wierenga
This month, CFRB presents Save My Children: The Story of a Father's Love by Emily Wierenga.
Save My Children is a fictional retelling of the true story of Harvey and Elsie Jespersen, the founders of Bethany Homes for Children. The Jespersens' desire was simple: to provide a safe place for any child needing a family. Save My Children traces the lives of battered and mistreated kids who were cared for at Bethany Homes. From 1948-1991, the Jespersens fostered over 800 children, taking up to fifty-five kids at a time. The Homes consisted of old army barracks based on forty two acres of farmland. Through hard work, determination and patience, the Jespersens transformed those barracks into a place of refuge for generations of children. Refusing to take any payment except what parents could afford, Harvey and Elsie depended on faith and the generosity of others to see them through. Save My Children powerfully demonstrates love's ability to transform brokenness into beauty.
About the Author:
Emily Wierenga is the author of Save My Children and Canvas Child, a novel about Anorexia Nervosa which was short listed in 2006 for The Word Guild's Best New Author Award. Ms. Wierenga freelances for various publications including Christian Week, Focus on the Family magazine and Faith Today. She also appeared on Canada's most watched faith-based television show, 100 Huntley Street, and was interviewed by the number one spiritual talk-back show in the nation, The Drew Marshall Show.
Save My Children is unlike the majority of books we have toured for CFRB in that it is on the verge of nonfiction, based greatly on the true life of the Jespersens and their life-long ministry with Bethany Homes for Children. The fact that the proceeds of sales will go to support Bethany Homes was a strong influence for us to run this tour. My review of the book will be upcoming, but for now I hope to whet your appetite. Please check out Ms. Wieranga's website and information about the project in the meantime.
Check out these other member blogs this week for more info.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
A WILD FIRST FOR FRANK'S BIRTHDAY!
It is time to play a Wild Card! Today it's HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRANK CREED with a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Since I first read Flashpoint, Book One of the Underground last year, Frank has become my favorite living author. He'a also one very nice guy with a profound love for the Lord and a smart-alecky sense of humor.
Today's Wild Card author is:
and his book:
Flashpoint: Book One of the Underground
The Writers Cafe Press (September 30, 2007)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
A rabid speculative fiction fan and aspiring author since boyhood, Frank Creed’s sojourn and the lack of Biblical speculative fiction in Christian bookstores has left a chip on his shoulder. Frank founded the Lost Genre Guild in September of ’06 as a community for fans and writers alike. After years of learning the craft and helping others polish their fiction, he now serves as a critic for The Finishers, a manuscript evaluation service for clients of both fiction and nonfiction.Frank’s first sci-fi short story, “The Last Newspaper,” took first place at the U.W. Whitewater Literary Conference in 1983. His first novel, Flashpoint: Book One of the Underground won the ’06 Elfie for best sci-fi novel at Elfwood, was chosen for the CFRB ’07 IMPRESS award for best book toured, and has been nominated for several awards this year. Frank’s short stories have been published in secular and Christian spec-fic anthologies.
Frank’s online ministry began two decades ago with the Body of Christ and debating Satanists in an effort to save his sister. It has since grown to include writing Christian fiction. After sustaining life-threatening injuries in a 1999 head-on collision, Frank may have been left disabled, but his writing suddenly took on a new clarity. Novelist Mary Lu Tyndall says: "Frank Creed is one of my favorite people. He has a heart for God and is, in my opinion, one of a new generation of spiritual warriors."
Visit him at his website.
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Flashpoint [Function: noun] 1: the lowest temperature at which vapors above a volatile combustible substance ignite in air when exposed to flame 2: a point at which someone or something bursts suddenly into action or being 3: TINDERBOX: a potentially explosive place or situation—merriamwebster.com
CHAPTER ONE
THIS IS IT, WE’RE HERE. Climb the slope on the right shoulder. Hide in the beams as best as you can. Whatever you do, stay under the bridge. If you come out, the cameras will spot you and all this will be pointless.”
The highway overpass loomed ahead. My father continued, “The car can’t be hidden under the bridge too long or they’ll figure out where you went. You’re gonna have to jump out while we’re moving.”
It was time.
“Sometime, someplace, I know we’ll see each other again. Use your freedom well. Now!”
That single word launched me out the door. As it swung shut behind me, Dad screamed at Jen, “Go!” I stumbled into a run watching her bail-out. The Geo Aphid sped off.
* * *
Jen had sprawled on the street. I helped my kid-sister to her feet. She’d hurt herself, but the bleeding amounted to pink smears on the palms of her hands.
“C’mon, let’s hide.”
“Dave!” She whimpered my name, but followed.
We clambered over the rough, fist-sized stones that covered the slope. At the top, the slope met the girders that supported the road above us. I pulled off my t-shirt and cleared the I-beams of spider webs and bird droppings. We slumped on opposite girders, facing each other.
Jen’s wide eyes glinted shell-shocked madness. “We’ll save them! Whoever comes for us, if they’ll help us, we could get them out!”
“We don’t even know where they’ll be taken,” I grumbled.
“I’ll hack that off the Web!” She reached for anything to pull herself from calamity’s quicksand.
I was in no mood to do this. “You don’t have a com-vision, Sis.”
Tears welled-up in her eyes again. I didn’t want to start an argument, and I definitely didn’t want to shatter the kid’s hopes. “I want our family back too, Sis, but Rehabs are usually guarded.”
We’d do well just to avoid the peacekeepers who had to be looking for us. Who could Dad trust to help us? How would they get us out from under the bridge without anyone seeing? Where could they hide us from searching peacekeeping units? How would we even get food? The hum of a motor grew near and we both shrank back against cold steel. A car passed beneath.
I tried to turn the conversation to something else. “I hope Mom and Jeff are okay.”
Jen buried her face in her hands, her shoulders rocking with sobs.
Real smooth. Nice going, fool. “I’m sorry Sis. Like Dad said, we gotta have faith—” I kicked myself.
When her tears ran out, Jen scowled and whispered, “If we’re His children, why’s He doing this to us?”
I left her in silence. Like I could answer that. How could He even allow a world where belief in the Bible made one a terrorist? Ripping apart our family would teach, what? What kind of lesson was this? I finally thought about how parents treat children. “I think it’s like when we’re kids. Mom or Dad punished us, and made us try things we didn’t want to. Having fun or being happy all the time isn’t the most important thing. I guess God’s like that, too. Dad said we’re being taught something, remember?”
“Yeah. How to miss your mom, and worry if you’ll ever see her again,” she pouted.
Little sisters out there, I speak for big brothers everywhere when I ask, please don’t stick us with hard questions that you’ve already answered. Very annoying.
I dug my pack of Winterfresh Extra out of my jeans’ pocket and let the conversation die. We moped into a sullen silence, our hopes shredded by our thoughts.
Spattering raindrops came and went. So did tears. Minutes piled into hours. Tracking time became impossible. That made me think of my e-wallet with the broken watch function. I powered it up and clicked past the com-vision white and yellow homepages. I selected the picture frame feature. Jen and I passed it back and forth, watching our party vids. Jen’s driver’s license and Jeff’s twenty-first birthday last month. My high-school graduation party two years ago. Jeff and I moving into our first apartment . . . Bad idea. I pocketed the e-wallet. Our thoughts spiraled into deep gloom, leaving Jen to weep her way out, and again we sat in silence.
My gum had lost its Extra-long-time flavor for what must have been hours before I realized the building I’d been staring at was a church. The bridge cut off its steepled roof. The One State allowed only one kind of church. Dad told me about people who called themselves Christians, but believed the Bible to be myth, and equal to the Koran, Upanishads and Bhagavad-Gita. With no truth to argue over, 500 years of church splits healed overnight. They called themselves the One Church. No points for creativity, but I guess it represented their unity.
Dad said when he’d once asked a One Churcher how he knew that love was any better than hate. The man had said the answer’s in our heart. Dad then asked what was wrong with the hearts of criminals. There, next to the bridge, out in the open, people were being taught to find love in a broken heart. Here, forced to hide under the bridge, were children of the Heart Surgeon.
If I leaned down I could see a sliver of eastern sky. I began watching for dawn’s brush to paint the clouds. Pigeons roosting under the bridge started their morning cooing. Cool dampness raised goose bumps on the backs of my arms. Finally, my shivering grew worse than my t-shirt’s filth. I shook it out and put it back on.
Then the end came.
The highway overpass loomed ahead. My father continued, “The car can’t be hidden under the bridge too long or they’ll figure out where you went. You’re gonna have to jump out while we’re moving.”
It was time.
“Sometime, someplace, I know we’ll see each other again. Use your freedom well. Now!”
That single word launched me out the door. As it swung shut behind me, Dad screamed at Jen, “Go!” I stumbled into a run watching her bail-out. The Geo Aphid sped off.
* * *
Jen had sprawled on the street. I helped my kid-sister to her feet. She’d hurt herself, but the bleeding amounted to pink smears on the palms of her hands.
“C’mon, let’s hide.”
“Dave!” She whimpered my name, but followed.
We clambered over the rough, fist-sized stones that covered the slope. At the top, the slope met the girders that supported the road above us. I pulled off my t-shirt and cleared the I-beams of spider webs and bird droppings. We slumped on opposite girders, facing each other.
Jen’s wide eyes glinted shell-shocked madness. “We’ll save them! Whoever comes for us, if they’ll help us, we could get them out!”
“We don’t even know where they’ll be taken,” I grumbled.
“I’ll hack that off the Web!” She reached for anything to pull herself from calamity’s quicksand.
I was in no mood to do this. “You don’t have a com-vision, Sis.”
Tears welled-up in her eyes again. I didn’t want to start an argument, and I definitely didn’t want to shatter the kid’s hopes. “I want our family back too, Sis, but Rehabs are usually guarded.”
We’d do well just to avoid the peacekeepers who had to be looking for us. Who could Dad trust to help us? How would they get us out from under the bridge without anyone seeing? Where could they hide us from searching peacekeeping units? How would we even get food? The hum of a motor grew near and we both shrank back against cold steel. A car passed beneath.
I tried to turn the conversation to something else. “I hope Mom and Jeff are okay.”
Jen buried her face in her hands, her shoulders rocking with sobs.
Real smooth. Nice going, fool. “I’m sorry Sis. Like Dad said, we gotta have faith—” I kicked myself.
When her tears ran out, Jen scowled and whispered, “If we’re His children, why’s He doing this to us?”
I left her in silence. Like I could answer that. How could He even allow a world where belief in the Bible made one a terrorist? Ripping apart our family would teach, what? What kind of lesson was this? I finally thought about how parents treat children. “I think it’s like when we’re kids. Mom or Dad punished us, and made us try things we didn’t want to. Having fun or being happy all the time isn’t the most important thing. I guess God’s like that, too. Dad said we’re being taught something, remember?”
“Yeah. How to miss your mom, and worry if you’ll ever see her again,” she pouted.
Little sisters out there, I speak for big brothers everywhere when I ask, please don’t stick us with hard questions that you’ve already answered. Very annoying.
I dug my pack of Winterfresh Extra out of my jeans’ pocket and let the conversation die. We moped into a sullen silence, our hopes shredded by our thoughts.
Spattering raindrops came and went. So did tears. Minutes piled into hours. Tracking time became impossible. That made me think of my e-wallet with the broken watch function. I powered it up and clicked past the com-vision white and yellow homepages. I selected the picture frame feature. Jen and I passed it back and forth, watching our party vids. Jen’s driver’s license and Jeff’s twenty-first birthday last month. My high-school graduation party two years ago. Jeff and I moving into our first apartment . . . Bad idea. I pocketed the e-wallet. Our thoughts spiraled into deep gloom, leaving Jen to weep her way out, and again we sat in silence.
My gum had lost its Extra-long-time flavor for what must have been hours before I realized the building I’d been staring at was a church. The bridge cut off its steepled roof. The One State allowed only one kind of church. Dad told me about people who called themselves Christians, but believed the Bible to be myth, and equal to the Koran, Upanishads and Bhagavad-Gita. With no truth to argue over, 500 years of church splits healed overnight. They called themselves the One Church. No points for creativity, but I guess it represented their unity.
Dad said when he’d once asked a One Churcher how he knew that love was any better than hate. The man had said the answer’s in our heart. Dad then asked what was wrong with the hearts of criminals. There, next to the bridge, out in the open, people were being taught to find love in a broken heart. Here, forced to hide under the bridge, were children of the Heart Surgeon.
If I leaned down I could see a sliver of eastern sky. I began watching for dawn’s brush to paint the clouds. Pigeons roosting under the bridge started their morning cooing. Cool dampness raised goose bumps on the backs of my arms. Finally, my shivering grew worse than my t-shirt’s filth. I shook it out and put it back on.
Then the end came.
Monday, May 19, 2008
NEWS RELEASE: Debut Novel Bridges Gap Between Science Fiction and Christianity
Contact: Frank Creed, 765-807-6745
LAFAYETTE, Indiana, Feb. 6 /Christian Newswire/ -- Christian science fiction and cyberpunk are viewed with suspicion by many believers, as traditionally, these genres have been dominated by atheism. Christian readers who enjoy the action and futuristic concepts in sci-fi but not the anti-Christian worldview have had few or no viable alternatives. Until now. The release of Flashpoint: Book One of the Underground by author Frank Creed is leveling the playing field.
Published by The Writers Café Press, Flashpoint was the 2006 winner of best science fiction chapter book at the world's largest sci-fi/ fantasy online community, Elfwood.com, and the 2007 Christian Fiction Review Impress award for the best book toured.
"If you're one of the many Christian science fiction fans who've despaired upon finding good sci-fi with a distinctly Christian worldview, weep no more. Frank Creed has delivered a novel that will appeal to teenagers and adults alike and that will please even the most ardent technophile." --Karen McSpadden, Christian Fiction Review. Award-winning author M.L. Tyndall calls Creed "one of a new generation of spiritual warriors" for daring to tread the uncharted waters of Christian sci-fi. Pastor Jonathan O'Hearn, Christian Church, Oklahoma states "Frank's writing is a colossal step towards delivering the Gospel to a new generation and an inspiration to future writers that Science Fiction and God are not mutually exclusive."
Set in Chicago 2036: Flashpoint is the story of an alternative future where patriotism meets tyranny, the Patriot Act waxes Stalin-esque and the violence of terrorism has united the world. Fundamentalist terrorists are the One State's only threat: including Bible-believing Christians. When peacekeepers make a home-church bust in the Chicago Metroplex, only two people evade capture. The siblings turn to the 'Body of Christ Underground' where they adopt street-names, undergo spiritual and technological reformation, and slip between the cracks of Chicago. Their mission: to save believers before they're rehabbed and brainwashed, or worse, by the One State Neros.
'Calamity Kid and e-girl fearlessly walk the valley of death, because He's with them. But they'll need every molecule of their re-formed faith to face down peacekeepers, gangers, One-State Neros, and fallen-angels, in America's dark Post-Modern Humanist age.' More information at http://www.frankcreed.com/ or http://www.thewriterscafe.com/.
Flashpoint: Book One of the Underground can be purchased at the following: http://www.amazon.com/, http://www.barnesandnoble.com/, http://www.edenstarbooks.com/ and can be ordered into any book store. ISBN #978-1-934284-01-8
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Award of Excellence to Molly Noble Bull!
The winners have just been announced for the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence for 2008. This is an award given by the Southern Magic branch of Romance Writers of America. In the Inspirational category, the winner is . . .
Molly Noble Bull!! Her book Sanctuary was voted as tops in this category by librarians, booksellers and avid readers of romance. It is exciting to see one of the books I reviewed receiving recognition for a novel that clearly presents a Christian worldview and seeks to glorify our Lord. Congratulations, Molly!
A review of this book appears in my blogs from October 2007.
The entire list of winners of the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence:
Historical-- My Lady's Treasure by Catherine Kean
Short Contemporary-- Blackmailed into Bed by Heidi Betts
Long Contemporary-- Riding the Thunder by Deborah MacGillivray
Paranormal-- Lady of Light and Shadows by C. L. Wilson
Inspirational-- Sanctuary by Molly Noble Bull
Contemporary Single Title-- Learning to Breathe by Karne White
Series Romantic Suspense (tie)-- The Perfect Stranger by Jenna Mills and
One Cool Lawman by Diane Pershing
Young Adult-- Prom Dates from Hell by Rosemary Clement-Moore
Novella-- Two For the Money by Leigh Wyndfield
Molly Noble Bull!! Her book Sanctuary was voted as tops in this category by librarians, booksellers and avid readers of romance. It is exciting to see one of the books I reviewed receiving recognition for a novel that clearly presents a Christian worldview and seeks to glorify our Lord. Congratulations, Molly!
A review of this book appears in my blogs from October 2007.
The entire list of winners of the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence:
Historical-- My Lady's Treasure by Catherine Kean
Short Contemporary-- Blackmailed into Bed by Heidi Betts
Long Contemporary-- Riding the Thunder by Deborah MacGillivray
Paranormal-- Lady of Light and Shadows by C. L. Wilson
Inspirational-- Sanctuary by Molly Noble Bull
Contemporary Single Title-- Learning to Breathe by Karne White
Series Romantic Suspense (tie)-- The Perfect Stranger by Jenna Mills and
One Cool Lawman by Diane Pershing
Young Adult-- Prom Dates from Hell by Rosemary Clement-Moore
Novella-- Two For the Money by Leigh Wyndfield
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