Mike Montgomery once lived the American dream. Gainfully employed, beautiful home, and a wonderful loving wife. Growing up in a loving family whose faith was unbreakable was his source of strength. Mike's faith would one day be shaken after losing the love of his life in an unexpected tragedy. Mike thought he would never love again until he meets Sheila Lawson. Everything about Sheila made him want to love again. Could he risk his heart again?

Sheila Lawson, a woman’s health advocate was strong and independent, yet something was missing in her life. Immersing herself in her work, she vowed off any relationships. Sheila would find her self-made decree shaken when she meets tall, dark, and handsome Mike Montgomery. There is an evil lurking in the shadows. Mike and Sheila will have to unite to overcome evil forces trying to keep them apart. Will their love be enough to see them through the testing of their faith?

REVIEW

Vanessa Richardson delivers an electrifying, undeniable love story between two people who do not believe it is happening immediately before their very eyes and their hearts beating at a rapid rate. Their first encounter speaks for itself.

We first meet Michael and his twin brother, Bryan, and see their agape love for one another regardless of their different lifestyles, paths, and personalities. Then, we see Shelia Lawton, who does not want to go back in the house of God with her best friend and colleague Rayna Peterson. These ladies met at college and remained friends since. We see Rayna go from graduating in Political Science/Pre-law major to wanting to become partner at Hudson, Fist, and Hudson law firm. Shelia majored in Sociology is now working as a Domestic Violence Counselor.

Vanessa captures the readers attention from the Prologue, where you do not want to stop reading in one-sitting. I enjoyed reading every character in the book, also seeing love electrifying over the emotions and souls of the characters--where I can picture them in my mind as if it is a TV series on Lifetime. I cannot wait for the sequel. This is a must-read, especially if you love inspirational-suspense (or Christian Fiction, Contemporary Romance).

Reviewed by: Dream 4 More Reviews, Adrienna Turner
www.dreams4more.com
5 stars--Wooed Us

EXCERPT

Thick, dark, ominous clouds blotted out the moon, occasionally casting the world into an eerie darkness. The last blackout was many, many years ago. Fate would have it that, this night would be a repeat of history. Below the streets were empty, not even a drunkard could be found on the barren streets. Out of fear, many sought the comfort and safety of their homes.

The house was quiet. For now anyways, but she was not fooled. Never would she play that part again. Rocking backward and forward she waited patiently and was not disappointed. It was all one sick routine, she realized. The whimpering began followed by the squeaking of the old mattress and then. Thump….thump…thump.

Thump. “I hate you. Thump. “I hate you“. Thump. “I hate you.” Her words matched the thumps in song. Powerful words for a ten year old. Words a ten year should never have to say and mean them. Then again, she was not an average ten year old, as she had endured too much, seen too much.

Something was not right. The routine was off tonight. Her breathing quicken with fear. Chills began to form on her arms and the hairs at her nape of her neck standing at attendance, gave testament that something was not right.

Scurrying from the worn mattress the child, peaked through the door. Being, careful, not to make any noises, she stepped out into the dark hallway.
She knew the old house well… to well. She was forbidden to leave the dilapidated house, not even to attend school. She and her mother were both prisoners, had been so for the last six years.

Instincts screamed for her to seek safety. It would be so easy to climb out her bedroom window and leave. Nevertheless, she could not leave her mother.
Her mothers’ staunch refusal to leave her father made her a prisoner. Warm tears began to course down the child’s cheek. Springing, from sad beautiful eyes. Eyes that should have witnessed the good that life had to offer.

Once again the young one ignored her tears, she knew that crying was useless, yet she could not staunch there flow. Glancing back at bedroom window, her heart plummeted. She desperately wanted to leave. Every nerve ending prompted her to do so.

“I can’t leave mama,” she whispered to her constant
Companion. Unfolding her tiny hands, a small onyx button, winked at her, remaining silent. The button was from a doll her mother had given her when she was three years old. She would pretend the doll was her sister. The doll had curly brown hair, two black button eyes, and a wide smile. That was what she loved most about her sister doll. Her smile. She herself never smiled. She didn’t have a reason to. Her world was devoid of smiles and laughter. Because of him.

She was deathly afraid of him. She dare not say his name aloud, to think it bought fear upon her. She simply referred to him as him. He was a tall and robust man, with a receding hairline. Nothing about him stood out in particular, but his eyes. She had never seen such eyes before.

She never looked into his eyes. They were terrifying. They weren’t a coffee brown color, as her mother and her eyes were. They were black and lifeless. They reminded her of the fish mama would often time cook for him. When he addressed her she would always keep her head down. He didn’t mind this; she sensed her subservient attitude gave him a feeling of power.
One day her father decided it was time for her to learn some responsibility around the house.

He ordered her to fetch him a beer from the refrigerator. He was a creature of habit. He was a janitor at a local Catholic School, and would often come home complaining about the hypocrites and how once day true dominance would reign. Doctrine that a six year old new nothing about.

Every day a precisely 6:30pm, mama had to have papa’s supper cooked and place in front of his favorite recliner next to his remote. One day Mama was not feeling well. She slept restlessly all day.
“Baby, come here.”

Immediately she went to her mother, crawling in bed next to her. Her mother hugged her tightly, gently caressing her cheek. “Mommy is not feeling good. So, you have to be a big girl and fix your self something to eat. When the mail man comes, let mommy know. So she can get up and fix daddy’s supper ok?”

“Yes, mommy. I can do it, I am big girl,” The little girl kissed her mothers gaunt cheek and was surprised by how hot her skin felt. The mail man always arrived before her dad arrived home. She would do something her mother couldn’t do. Protect her. She was mama’s little protector. She never did fix her sandwich, she was too afraid she missed the mailman’s arrival.

Instead she went into the kitchen dragging out one the chairs; she placed it in front of the living room window. There she waited.

Her stomach began to growl reminding her she hadn’t ate anything all day. Her bladder was full but she refused to abandon her watch. “I am so hungry,” she told her sister doll. “You are too? It won’t be long now. Mama will fix us something to eat soon.” She remembered the left over spaghetti from last night and immediately her stomach growled loudly. Mama needed her.

The sound of someone whistling woke her. It was the mailman! She immediately went to tell mama. Mama wouldn’t get up, and she was so hot. She decided to let her rest longer. That was a decision she would forever regret.