Travel to Lesotho, Africa, In L. A. Forbes Tales of Deceit...

By 7:00 the next morning, the seven thousand foot valley was already flooded in sunlight, everything freshened from yesterday's downpour. Before leaving for school, Lucy checked up on her older brother Thabo, who was recuperating in another rondavel on their compound. She smelled dagga. His sudden appearance back in Malikeng last year was traumatic for Lucy and her sister, Grace. Barely recognizable, Thabo stubbornly resisted going to the medical clinic until the local sangoma said there was nothing more she could do. Now he had the equivalent of a small pharmacy of meds to take, and smoking dagga made it easier to cope.
Raised garden beds of carrots, beans, chard, mustard, tomatoes and squash, plus ripening peach trees, filled the fenced-in property. Lucy's prized spiral aloe, transplanted long ago to her rondavel garden, just finished its long bloom, signalling a new year.
Lucy came back to Malikeng, her natal village, three years ago after completing university and student teaching in Maseru, the capital of Lesotho. She thought city kids were disrespectful and unruly, and Maseru was hectic and noisy. Her students in Malikeng came from four local villages in the remote Lesotho mountain valley. For the most part, they were polite and well behaved.
~~~

Spiral Aloe: 

 Deceit in Lesotho

 Africa's Mountain Kingdom

By L. A. Forbes

Sarah had come to Africa as a volunteer in the Peace Corps, but it had been mainly because she had become restless after a breakup with her boyfriend as well as weary of her her public health work... She had never heard of Lesotho as, I am sure, many of us had not.

The young women grabbed their notebooks and
 chalk and went to their classrooms.
The public school was a four room,
one-story, concrete-block building on a hectare
 of land. There was no electricity, just lots
of north-facing windows. Gravity-fed,
piped-in mountain water was more than enough
 for the students, kitchen, orchard and vegetable
 gardens. It was a dramatic setting. The surrounding
 Drakensberg mountains, which extended through Lesotho
 and South Africa, reached ten thousand feet around
 the valley and were emerald green in summer.
Upper slopes were covered with reeds, ericas (heathers),
 proteas, succulents and wild flowers. The valley floor
was loosely divided into four villages, surrounded by
 intensely farmed fields of maize, beans and millet.
Some fields extended up the mountain slopes. Land
 ownership was privately held and passed down
 through families, rarely changing hands.
Their school went through grade nine.
~~~

As you can see from the pictures, it is a beautiful country, although with few conveniences. She had left her Albuquerque home because it was getting too big--quite a change though, wasn't it?

She would be helping {in a small fictional town much like those there} with an AIDS education program, but had little experience in preparing for such an activity...But the people she met were all very friendly, especially Lucy and others teachers with whom she would be working.

I found it interesting that the secrecy and unwillingness to face AIDS was just as prominent there as it was in the U.S. For me, my thoughts was that because it was so prominent in the world that everybody should be anxious to learn what to do... Because it was so closely aligned with sexuality, however, part of the issue was racially concerned, thinking that any help would require abstinence and thus fewer births, a desire of white people...

Sarah spent much time just getting to know the people in her location and then began to travel to other villages, so that soon she was known and recognized and somewhat accepted.

She had taken the time when she first got there to have a local woman teach her the language beyond what she had already learned through the Corps' program. Lucy had chosen a well-known woman who also made the joala, a local beer, for the small bar that they had built next to their home...

Sarah found that the children were very anxious to interaction with her, especially when they visited her in her home, a rondavel that had been provided by the leader of the tribe where she was staying...

They were amazed that she would have the place for just herself, so many immediately volunteers to live with her, which she had to nicely refuse...but she soon had to be involved with them in all aspects of living within the village and she delighted to getting to know everybody...

I want to stop here and point out that the author did live and work in the area and still lives in the country. To me, this was an important part of reading and absorbing the story line. In my opinion, you see, the tales of deceit are hidden within the story which is written almost like a folk tale that is past down through the generations. It is about the lives of the people living in the area and there was, for me, an underlying attitude picked up by the author, somewhat like it would have been presented to her as she was settling in to work...

You see, the deceit is not what we in the United States might think of as we consider the word...

It is about doing what you have to do to keep on living!

Death and dying are accepted as a natural part of that living. Those who had been involved sexually with others did not normally think about using a condom to prevent AIDS. If the woman didn't mind whether she got pregnant, then requiring a condom seemed an interference in their lovemaking... There are two young men in the book--one was a player, one was just a guy who was away from home and lonely, with little to do... Readers get to know both very well. Thabo has been diagnosed, but he came home and with help has been on medication and is doing better. Thabo after talking with Sarah and his family, decided to help with the prevention program, being willing to honestly share with them about what he had and was now going through.

Growing and selling daga was done by many of those who had the land. Regular planting would occur, but then, the dagga, marijuana, which grew well in the area, was planted in between the other rows. There were mining jobs in other parts of the country, but this required that the men be far away from home and their families for long periods of time. Allowing daga to be planted on their property and getting a portion of the profits was a small deceit, I am sure, for many who needed to be home and were willing to take the risk...

Toby was the main man dealing with those who purchased the dagga. But he was also a player, going after as many females as he wanted, even getting at least one pregnant and merely telling her to have it aborted. That she didn't then became only her problem. He thought about helping her financially, but never got around to it. He was a busy man who had recently bought a hot vehicle and was routinely offering to help people, using it for delivering supplies to the schools for instance. The teachers were grateful since their previous loads never came or were never completely filled...due to the taxi drivers... They were not making as much now since these special jobs had "paid better..."

Many of the town's men spent much time and money at the local bar but nobody but the one who made this brew knew it was a "special" recipe, which helped bring the men back! On the other hand, it was the same woman who collected herbs and other materials used in place of medicines, such as the Spiral Aloe, hidden now, to allow growth, because the men had sold off most of what was found in the hills...

        Aloe Polyphylla, or Spiral Aloe, grows in the wild above 2000 meters (6600 feet) in the mountains of Lesotho in southern Africa. Spiral arrangements of leaves can be counter- or clockwise. It's often covered in snow in winter. Considered endangered. This gem, which thrives in harsh mountainous terrain, is a perfect metaphor for the hardy Basotho, the people of Lesotho. 

Many of us routinely deceive in small or large ways. Toby, for instance, had not been willing to be tested, so that when his girlfriend got pregnant and they found her to be infected, he was caught--even then he hadn't gone...

So when this book suddenly closed, it made perfect sense to me... A man had died in an accident; neighbors were happy that it hadn't been one of the buses or taxis with many people... When disease and death arrives from something as vital to life as our own sexuality, it forces many to make choices--some of them are deceitful... What would you do? There are "real" examples within this short story. What would you do if you needed money to buy food or educate your children?

L. A. Forbes gives readers much to consider. Some people in America have similar situations...Do you try to help or call the law on those who cannot make enough for food for their children?

Thanks to the author for sharing about the lives of those living in Lesotho and other similar villages in Africa...Individuals interested in travel, world events, or personal life drama should consider this one!




GABixlerReviews

About this author

I've had a peripatetic existence, by choice. I grew up in Montana, graduated from UW, Seattle in archeology and worked in The Philippines with Asian ceramics dating from the 10th to 19th centuries. From there I traveled independently to Tibet, China, Burma and Vietnam, often seeing places just opened to foreigners.

Next chapter was in southern Utah starting and running a successful business in Moab for seven years. I still love the Colorado Plateau area. From the southwest my husband and I moved to Lesotho, southern Africa and taught small business and HIV/AIDS prevention for two years. We've travelled into Zambia, Mozambique, Botswana, Namibia and all over South Africa.

I've resided in South Africa since 2004. I teach ESL (Cambridge CELTA certificate) and maths, working mostly with rural schools. The intense politics and disparities, coupled with stunning people, make RSA an amazing place to live.

I self-published "Spiral Aloe: Deceit in Lesotho, Africa's Mountain Kingdom", a work of fiction about that beautiful country.

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Love daytime drama? Find it all in Bittersweet House!

http://www.nypost.com/t/Susan_Lucci

Bittersweet House


By Liz Barzda












I was watching "The Talk" recently when Susan Lucci appeared to both promote her book, All My Life: A Memoir, and share about the closing of the drama in which she has played for years. There isn't anybody who doesn't know Lucci, even if they've never watched the drama. That day I was reading Bittersweet House by Liz Barzda and found myself casting Lucci as one of the female characters in her book. For certainly, this story has the sophisticated, never-ending drama for which daytime TV is known...

At first, I thought of her as Katherine, who owns an elite luxurious spa which she has just expanded, leaving her worried about money, wanting her lover to ask his rich father for a loan, and, if all else fails, threatening to go to the mafia for the half-million she needs.

Or she could also play Zita Parker who owns an advertising agency, now single since her ex left her for a younger woman, after they had been trying for years and spent much money to pay for medical procedures to help Zita get pregnant...


Zita and Katherine are two of the four women who have been friends for more than a decade and have referred to themselves as the Barren Babes. Sometimes they share jokingly about their never having children, but most of the time, they share the pain and frustration each has felt...

Margaret as the oldest has become somewhat of a counselor for the others. Though childless, she and her husband have a loving relationship and both have successful professional careers that have been fulfilling. Margaret's sister had died young and she asked her sister to watch over her young son, so Margaret and her husband have take that responsibility to heart over the years and now look to help fund his college years as he plans to become an architect. But a young woman has other plans for this young man...

But, when decision-making time came for casting Lucci, I found I chose her to play Linda, the beautiful anchor on a local television station who has for many years allowed her husband to convince her that starting a family should be delayed until they were both professionally and financially secure.

And that was accepted, although not happily, by Linda. Now she was older and realized her child-bearing years were flying by. Still everybody, including her friends, looked to Linda and her husband as the perfect loving couple--even Linda was fooled!

Until the day she got a call from a woman who was screaming to talk to her husband. As they talked, Linda realized that this woman had a right to call him--and soon learned that his son was in the hospital and his mother was begging for Linda's husband to come! Later Linda learned that her husband had been involved for  over two years and he was supporting his other family through a trust fund that had never been used in support of their marriage.

Now you've met the Barren Babes--four professional women who wanted it all, including children. Have they put too much of their lives toward their personal careers so that, now, they are overwhelmed when their personal lives seem to be falling apart? When husbands betray, can women afford to risk being hurt again? Or must they finally and totally accept that women just can't have it all?

Revenge, blackmail, death, depression, one night stands all await you as you become privy to the lives of those living inside and out of Bittersweet House. Will their drama have any chance of including love, redemption and hope? It's all here waiting for you! Spend a quiet weekend getting to know the Barren Babes... Let me know if you agree that Lucci should play the lead character--wonder what "she" would do when her husband betrayed their marriage!

Book received via
Personal Loan


GABixlerReviews

Highlighting Latest Book by Brandilyn Collins

Image by Eric Kilby via Flickr

"A hysterical thought flashed in my brain: I hit the Grim Reaper.

DECEIT –

A stand-alone seatbelt suspense.

Released July 2010.




By Brandilyn Collins





















Sometimes the truth hides where no one expects to find it.

Joanne Weeks knows Baxter Jackson killed Linda—his second wife and Joanne’s best friend—six years ago. But Baxter, a church elder and beloved member of the town, walks the streets a free man. The police tell Joanne to leave well enough alone, but she is determined to bring him down. Using her skills as a professional skip tracer, she sets out to locate the only person who may be able to put Baxter behind bars. Melissa Harkoff was a traumatized sixteen-year-old foster child in the Jackson household when Linda disappeared. At the time Melissa claimed to know nothing of Linda's whereabouts—but was she lying?

In relentless style, Deceit careens between Joanne's pursuit of the truth—which puts her own life in danger—and the events of six years' past, when Melissa came to live with the Jacksons. What really happened in that household? Beneath the veneer of perfection lies a story of shakeable faith, choices, and the lure of deceit.




Chapter 1

© Copyright 2010 by Brandilyn Collins.
Used by permission of Author

Some evil shouts from rooftops, some scuttles in the dark. The greatest evil tips its face toward light with shining innocence.

Baxter Jackson shone with the worst of them.

In my sister’s kitchen I focused out the sliding glass door to her backyard. Relentless rain pummeled the night. The weather matched my mood. The Vonita Times, our town’s weekly paper, lay on the square wooden table across from me. Its front page headline glared. Skip Tracer Accuses Police Chief of Shirking Duty.

My sister followed my gaze to the article. “Maybe it really was an accident, Joanne.”

I shot her a look of accusation and hurt. “You, too?” As if the rest of the town weren’t enough. “I thought you agreed with me.”

She drew a long breath. “I don’t know what to think. Two wives gone does look suspicious, but there’s no proof Baxter did anything. Once Cherisse’s death was ruled an accident—”

“How many people fall down stairs and die, Dineen, even if they are hardwood? That only happens in old movies.”

“But that’s what the coroner said.”

“The Sheriff-Coroner’s up for reelection next year, and who do you suppose gave the most to his last campaign?”

“I know, but I just can’t believe any coroner would find signs of a murder and look the other way, especially this man. I mean, I know Bud Gidst. So do you.”

I pushed back my chair, picked up my plate and stacked hers on top. Marched them over to the sink and set them down none too gently. I loved my sister like crazy, always had. She was twelve years younger, and I’d always looked after her. I steered her clear of bratty, bully girls in grade school, the wrong guys in high school. I urged her to fight her self-serving ex in court until he paid the two years’ worth of child support he owed for Jimmy. But the fact was, Dineen had always been too trusting. She just couldn’t believe bad about anybody until it hit her in the face.

“Sometimes people don’t want to see the truth, Dineen.” I rinsed the plates, the water hissing. “Autopsy findings are open to interpretation. To say all those bruises and contusions on Cherisse’s head didn’t match a fall down the stairs would be calling Baxter Jackson a liar. Maybe Bud didn’t want to believe that.”

Or maybe his ruling was far more sinister. Baxter Jackson was the richest man in Vonita and practically ran the town. He sponsored a Little League baseball team every year and personally paid for Vonita’s Fourth of July fireworks. He was everybody’s best friend. Nobody in the county ever spoke against Baxter.

Except me.

I turned off the water. If only I could wring that eavesdropping reporter’s neck. My argument with the Chief of Police had not been intended for the public’s ear.

“Yeah, maybe.” My sister sounded only half convinced. She pushed a dark lock of hair behind her ears, then hugged herself.

Voices from the TV drifted in from the den. Nine-year-old Jimmy was watching some reality cop show. My head hurt. I walked back to my chair and slumped into it, suddenly feeling old at fifty-two. Dineen pressed her lips together and regarded me with a beleaguered expression. Her hazel eyes held concern. “I’m just sorry you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in this.”

Thursday’s newspaper headline fairly shouted at me. I reached out and flipped it over. “I know.” I gave her a wan smile. “But I shouldn’t be worrying you about it. You’ve got enough to deal with right now, given your stress at work.”

Dineen shrugged. “It’s not that bad. Things are just crazy because Doug’s so wrapped up in the law suit. It’s almost over. He’ll win, as usual, and he and his client will walk away with lots of cash. Everybody will be happy again.”

Everyone except the San Jose hospital he was suing.

I made a face. “Including you, I hope. Happy as in getting a big honking present for all the abuse you’ve taken.” Dineen answered phones at Doug Brewer’s firm, nothing more. She wasn’t a law clerk. She didn’t deserve his snapping temper. But when Doug was fighting a big case, everyone around him bore the brunt of his impatience.

“Were things any different for you on Friday, after that came out?” I gestured with my chin toward the newspaper. Doug and Baxter were good friends. I didn’t want my sister taking any heat for me.

My sister fiddled with her hair. “Not really.”

“What does not really mean, Dineen?”

She tilted her head. “A few people did ask me what you were thinking. I didn’t even see Doug. He went straight to court.”

Yeah, what was I thinking? Who was I to go up against Baxter Jackson?

"Know what?” I sounded sorry for myself, and I hated it. My nerves were just too worn to care. “Right now you and Jimmy are about my only friends in town.”

“Come on, that’s not true.”

“It is, Dineen. You should see the looks I’ve gotten the last few days. The disgusted whispers.” Sudden tears bit my eyes. I looked at the table.

Dineen made an empathetic sound in her throat. “What about all your friends at church? You’ll see them tomorrow.”

Her words pierced. I shook my head. “I can’t go back there, not now. With Baxter as head elder? Which side do you think would win? And anyway, I don’t want those dear people taking sides. I can’t put them in that position. They loved Cherisse, and Linda before that.” My voice tightened. “They’re like family to Baxter. They’re grieving along with him.”

Cherisse had died only two weeks ago. I could imagine church members’ reactions as they read that newspaper article. Even though they loved me. Even though I’d attended that church for fifteen years, long before my husband, Tom, died of a heart attack. I was the one who always got things done. Led committees, rallied the troops for fund raisers, taught Sunday school. They knew my heart for helping others. But how dare I talk against Baxter Jackson—especially as he mourned the death of his second wife? How could I be so cruel?

Dineen laid a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry. I know how much you miss Linda.”

Yes, I did miss her. Terribly. Linda, the irrepressible woman who encouraged everyone around her. Even in those moments when some inner pain she refused to share fleeted across her face, she would shake it off, flash that dazzling smile of hers. Now, six years later, Linda’s disappearance still haunted me. Baxter claimed she’d left the house one night and never returned. A few days later her car was found some twenty miles away, smears of her blood on the front seat. Her body was never recovered. I didn’t believe Baxter’s story about my best friend—not after what she’d told me. And she hadn’t been herself for weeks before her disappearance, would barely even return my calls.

But Chief Eddington hadn’t listened to me then, either.

Indignation bubbled inside me once more. I raised my eyes. “Two wives in six years, Dineen.” One unsolved murder and one accident. “A total of one million dollars’ life insurance. One million. Why would he even take out policies on his wives in the first place, when neither of them worked?” Linda’s policy had taken three years to come through. The courts had to declare her dead first, aided by the fact that her credit cards, bank account, nothing had been touched since the night of her disappearance. Even so, I wouldn’t be surprised if Baxter’s influence swayed that legal process as well.

Dineen lifted a shoulder. There was nothing in this argument we hadn’t covered a dozen times before.

Sometimes I wished I could be more like her. More of an accepter, less of a fighter. Life would be so much easier. But I just hadn’t been wired that way.

I leaned back and pressed my hands to my temples.

“You have another headache?” Dineen asked.

I nodded.

Dineen rose and walked to the cabinet by her refrigerator, where she pulled out a bottle of heavy-duty aspirin. She shook out two and handed them to me. “Here.”

“Thanks.” I swallowed them with the last gulp of water from my glass. A gust of wind pelted rain against the sliding door. It was nasty out there. February in Vonita, California, forty miles south of San Jose, was balmy compared to some parts of the country. The current temperature hovered in the low forties. But the dampness made it feel so much colder. I hated winter rain. It reminded me of death and despair. Five years ago I’d buried my husband on a day like this.

I pushed from my chair. “Better go.”

“Want a Jelly Belly hit?” Dineen gestured toward my favorite cabinet.

“Always.” I managed a smile. “Especially if you’ve got Grape Jelly or Watermelon. They’re my headache flavors.”

Dineen fetched a large glass bowl from the cabinet shelf. “I don’t know what’s what in here. You figure it out.”

I leaned over the bowl, moving the candies around with a finger. Grape Jelly ones are dark purple. Watermelon are green. I found a few of each and popped them in my mouth one by one, relishing each bite. Nothing in this world beat Jelly Belly jelly beans. Particularly on a night like this.

In the den I leaned over the couch to brush my fingers against Jimmy’s cheek. He was recovering from a nasty bout of flu. Jimmy looked pale and tired, but he smiled at me all the same. His brown hair stuck out in all directions—a casualty of lying against all the gathered throw pillows. “G’night, Aunt Joanne.”

“Good night, favorite nephew.”

“I’m your only nephew.”

“Well, if I had a hundred, you’d still be my favorite.”

At the front door I pulled on a rain coat and picked up my umbrella. Dineen hugged me hard. “This mess will all blow over, you’ll see. Chief Eddington can’t stay mad at you forever.”

“Sure.” I slid my purse over my arm. No point in disagreeing, even though I knew better. Wayne Eddington and Baxter Jackson went way back. “Thanks for dinner, as always.”

Dineen nodded. “See ya next Saturday.”

“You bet.”

She opened the door, and the monster wind blew its clammy breath over us. I stuck my umbrella outside, hit the button on its handle, and hurried down the porch steps to my Toyota 4Runner. By the time I slid into the car my ankles were wet and chilled.

The loud battering on the roof turned up my headache. Gritting my teeth, I started the car. The digital clock read 8:33 p.m.

My house lay about five miles from Dineen’s on Stillton, a rural road at the edge of town. I drove stiff-backed, fat raindrops cascading through my headlight beams and bouncing off the pavement like spilled popcorn. My thoughts eddied with increasing frustration. As a skip tracer I spent my work days hunting down people, many of them criminals. I’d built a good reputation for finding my skips. Now I had a possible double murderer in my sites, one of his victims my best friend. A friend I could have saved, if I’d only pushed harder.

And now I couldn’t do a thing about my suspicions.

I passed through the last stoplight on Elmer and turned left onto Stillton. Two miles of narrow road and curves, and I’d reach my warm, dry house. I turned up the heat in the car. Eyes narrowed, I drove slowly, frowning at the headlights of an oncoming vehicle until it swished by. My windshield wipers drummed a furious beat.

“Why didn’t you investigate Cherisse’s death?” I’d demanded of Chief Eddington four days ago. We stood in his office at the station, the door open. I tried to keep my voice low.

The Chief’s face reddened. He planted both hands on his thick hips. “So now you’re going to rag me about this case for the next six years? They’re over, Joanne. Both Jackson cases are closed.”

“And you’re happy about that, aren’t you? Now life can just go on and Baxter remains your favorite pal.”

The rest of our heated argument ran through my head. I’d never even seen reporter Andy Wangler in the station, much less in proximity to hear us. He must have salivated all over his notepad.

My last bend before home approached. I eased off the accelerator.

A hooded figure darted into the road.

I gasped and punched the brake. The anti-lock system shuddered. The figure jerked its head half toward me, one side of a man’s face lit skeletal white. A rivulet of blood jagged down his bony cheek. The eye on the shadowed half of his face shrunk as black and deep as an empty socket.

He raised his arms.

My car slid toward him.

I whipped the steering wheel left. The figure jumped backward.

Too late.

I heard a sickening bump on my right fender. In peripheral vision I glimpsed the body knocked aside. My Toyota kicked into a spiral over slickened asphalt. The world dizzied as I spun, my widened eyes taking in a dancing fence on the road’s left side … the curve I’d already traveled … a gnarled oak straight ahead ... a crumpled figure on the ground. My wet tires sang and sizzled, the smell of my own sweat acrid in my nostrils.

A hysterical thought flashed in my brain: I hit the Grim Reaper. With a final, nauseating jolt my SUV carved to a stop in the middle of the dark and pelted road.

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Review: Deception Explored By Brandilyn Collins in Novel Released This Month:

Image by Bridgette Taylor via Flickr

     Deceit

      By Brandilyn Collins

Would it turn out well if {God} examined you? Could you deceive him as you might deceive men?
Job 13:9

God sees not as man sees, For man looks at the outward appearance, But the Lord looks at the heart." 1 Samuel 16:7  (Book Front Pages)



Brandilyn Collins has produced another trademark book of Seatbelt Suspense, with her latest novel out this month, Deceit. It's another winner for this author--so be sure not to miss this one!

Joanne Weeks is a Skip Tracer but this job is personal. Seven years ago, her best friend died. Joanne believed that her husband, Baxter Jackson killer her. Now Jackson's second wife has died, through falling down the stairs at their home; and Joanne is positive that she, too, was murdered. Problem is, nobody believes her--or, they don't want to deal with it!

Baxter Jackson is one of the richest, leading citizens of the town. He is a church elder and beloved by community members. But in Joanne's frustration and anger, she tried to convince the police chief to investigate the latest death. Being overheard, she was now reading the headlines, "Skip Tracer Accuses Police Chief of Shirking Duty." (p. 15) Now the town members, or most of them, were turned against Joanne!

Then as she was going home, she noticed someone was walking near her home--a hooded figure suddenly darted into the road as she was making the last bend in the road. Joanne quickly braked trying not to hit him, but she heard the bump on her right fender. Stopping, worried that she'd killed a man, she quickly got out and went to him to help, but he wouldn't let her...he interrupted saying, "You want Baxter Jackson?" (p. 25) Stunned, Joanne realized that the man was wearing a mask! But he went on, telling Joanne to find Melissa because she knew what had happened, claiming she even knew where the body was!

Now, of course, Joanne (and we readers) were sure this was some setup! But on the other hand, Melissa had been a teenager who was living with the Baxters at the time, taken in for foster care and possible adoption. Social Services had removed her when Linda disappeared, but Joanne realized that, indeed, Melissa might have seen what had happened to Linda, her foster mother and Joanne's best friend.

Using her skills as a Skip Tracer, she immediately turned to her computer and started the search! As Melissa is brought into the story, readers begin to learn what had happened those years ago, as a young girl was taken into the beautiful Jackson home, had clothes purchased and began to see potential for her future.

What Melissa also saw, and what Joanne had long ago found out one day when Linda visited her, was that Baxter was physically abusive and could possibly one day also start in on Melissa! He was smart enough to hit Linda on her back or other areas which would not show. Linda had pulled up her blouse in the back for Joanne once, but would never talk about it again. Nobody else had ever seen the cruel side of Baxter Jackson.

Joanne had nobody to help her; she couldn't find the man who had been on the road since he had been wearing a mask. But then one shop owner admitted to Joanne that he had always questioned what had happened--and he became involved in the investigation--as well as with Joanne, as they grew to care for each other.

But there was more than one individual using deception in this case. As more and more of the story becomes known, those willing to deceive, for money, for power, are all brought out into the open...with a surprise ending that was the biggest deception of all! Collins' willingness to highlight crime by a church elder has added a thought-provoking edge to this Christian novel! Very cool ending!

Brandilyn Collins has quickly become a favorite author for me. Deceit, however, with the suspenseful intensity and complexity forces me to go back and start looking for books I have missed  by Collins...I think she just might have become a must-read author for me!

ARC Provided Book

G. A. Bixler



Zondervan
ISBN: 9780310233343
315 Pages

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