A BOX OF PROMISES by Michelle Levigne

A BOX OF PROMISES by Michelle Levigne

Tabor Heights Year Two


Meg, Andrea, Ray, Bergen and Casey -- dorm sisters with summer plans. Meg: help Mexican orphans. Andrea: publish newspaper articles. Ray: get Michael's attention. Bergen: work with wolves at the zoo. Casey: survive as head camp lifeguard. Those who don't reach their goals pay for a pizza party at the end of the summer.

Sunburn, bubblegum in hair, "mean girls," lunatic customers, temporary blindness, political games and other assorted problems detour the girls from their goals. Life sneaks up and surprises them with opportunities they never expected -- along with five men who find them more than interesting. Will they survive their summer and reach their goals? By the time they return to their dorm, the girls realize that life is what happens when you make other plans.

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Excerpt

We, the undersigned, do hereby swear before God and these witnesses, that we will do something worthwhile and will come back to the fourth floor of Ontario Hall, Butler-Williams University, on Wednesday, August 26, to report to each other on our summer apart.

Anyone who does not fulfill their specific goals or do something even more worthwhile shall pay forfeit by buying a pizza party for all members of the pact.

Solemnly sworn and witnessed. The dorm sisters, fourth floor, Ontario Hall:

Casey Jenkins
VOW: Save a life, get a date for end-of-camp dance
Actually save a life, not just some airhead's social standing like last year when I fixed her dress with a stapler and paperclips -- and get a real date with a guy near my own age, not a pity date with one of the maintenance guys from the boys' camp across the lake.

Meg Tally
VOW: Lose twenty pounds, read through the entire Bible, and teach sewing so all my students have a new dress by the end of the summer.

Maraya Hammersmith
VOW: Work six VBS sessions, grow my hair, get a tan, and finally get the attention of Michael Naismith.

Bergen Mercer
VOW: Work my way up to a job in Wolf Wilderness.

Andrea Gregory
VOW: Write and publish two stories for the Tabor Picayune

A BOX OF PROMISES, Excerpt #2

By the time Hess got off the phone, Andrea had read through fifteen reports and typed in the most interesting and off-beat of them into her computer. Just fifteen incidents over the weekend. It barely took any time at all to go through them. Barking dogs. Kids skinny-dipping in the park after hours. The "ghost" at the Historical Society building turned out to be an archivist working late. The person who reported the ghost had broken her glasses that morning and couldn't see beyond the reach of her hand.

"Slim pickings this week," Hess said with a grin and a shrug, when he walked over to retrieve the report book.

"That loony over on Prague Rd. threatened to beat up the entire circulation department again," she offered.

"Yeah, we know. We have a special folder just for all his threats. The thing is, Prague Road is the dividing line between Tabor and Hyburg, and he's on the Hyburg side of the line. All his threats are for the police in Hyburg to deal with." "Especially since he's grumbling about Hyburg's paper, not ours, and the threats are against their circulation department, not ours. You can't tell him that, though. Every time someone tells him he's calling the wrong office, he goes into his rant about how all the newspapers in the country are owned by the government and he doesn't pay his taxes to get a runaround from lazy communist pinko wannabes who wouldn't know good customer service if it gave them a black eye."

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WHEELS by Michelle L. Levigne

WHEELS by Michelle L. Levigne 

Tabor Heights Year Two

Natalie was the little girl across the street who adored Tommy and planned to marry him when they grew up. In the wake of Tommy's broken back and the disintegration of his family, Natalie's family left town.

She never thought she would see him again, until she was assigned to cover the Mission's handicap awareness campaign -- led by Tommy. He didn't seem to recognize her, and she didn't want to embarrass him by bringing up the past, but she had to warn him before the past found Tommy in the shape of his estranged father.

Just when was the right time, in the middle of the campaign and threats from petty criminals who were blackmailing one of Tommy's friends?

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Excerpt

"And you are?" Tommy leaned forward. His eyebrows rose a little when she just stared into his big, chocolate eyes. "Sorry, but nobody told me a reporter was coming. I don't know who you are."

"Oh." She wished she had taken him up on that drink -- she could have splashed it on her face, and maybe generated enough steam to hide behind. "Sorry. Natalie Schaeffer."

"Right!" He leaned back, twisting sideways in his chair so he hooked his right arm over and behind the push-handle.

"You know who I am?"

"Gee, you look so young." He snorted when she shook her head, completely lost. "Natalie Schaffer. She played Mrs. Howell on 'Gilligan's Island.'"

"You are the only person in the whole world who would remember something like that. But it is a different spelling, I must point out."

"Picky, picky. There was this girl I knew when I was a kid. She made the same argument. I used to call her 'Lovey,' and sing the bars about the millionaire and his wife, and she would run away in terror. Gee, give a guy a complex. I was just a dumb kid -- how could I tell her I was passionately in love with her? It just wasn't cool for guys my age." Tommy chuckled. "That's off the record, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. Why would I want to mortally embarrass you in front of half the country?" Natalie bent her head over her notepad, thankful she had written down a list of questions she wanted to ask him. Please, please, please, don't let him recognize me now, after he said all that.

A warm glow shot through her. Tommy had been in love with her, all those years ago? She had been pleased and mortified when he teased her about her name. Maybe if she hadn't run away, she might have known? Then again, what good would it have done either of them, after her father took them to a new church, a new town, and a new state?

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COOKING UP TROUBLE by Michelle Levigne

COOKING UP TROUBLE by  Michelle Levigne 

Tabor Heights Year Two

Audrey lives for cooking and acting. When the Randolphs experiment with dinner theater, they turn to her to head the kitchen.

Steve returns to Tabor Heights to get to know his new sister, Max. Creating a dinner theater fascinates him, and soon so does Audrey.

As Max and Tony's wedding draws near, so do paparazzi spies. After all, Max is the daughter of celebrities. When Audrey discovers a spy in her kitchen, she spins lies to protect her friends, but finds she needs protection when she is cast opposite Steve in Romeo and Juliet -- and the media speculates she's auditioning to join the celebrity family. Steve becomes her defender and partner in thwarting the paparazzi. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," is more than true for them, but past difficulties and shameful secrets may be building a wall too thick for even friendship to endure.

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Excerpt:

"Who is this incredibly creative lady?" Carlo said, after they had laughed together and made wagers on which of their most-loathed gossip papers would release the false story first.

"Actually... She's my Juliet." Steve held his breath, and counted to eight.

"Come again?"

"I got cast as Romeo, and Audrey is Juliet."

"Oh ho." Carlo's chuckle rolled over him, warm and rich, with a touch of something that made Steve writhe a little. "Be careful to keep reality separate from the fantasy you'll create."

"Dad..."

"Tell me about her. Your mother and I have the right to know the truth about the girl we'll find out you're engaged to by the end of the run."

Steve groaned. He hadn't considered that aspect of getting up on the stage again. Working behind the scenes for eight years now, he had been able to forget what happened the last time he had a leading lady. The sad part was that the girl was so new to the limelight -- winner of a talent search competition -- she actually believed some of the stories she read, pairing her with Steve. For a short while. Fortunately, her awakening came painlessly. When one gossip sheet gave a fictitious biography for her, she realized nothing could be believed just because it was in print.

"Well... okay, she's a baker. I think I heard Max say she went to culinary school. And she's doing pastry for the wedding. She's going to be part of some experiment Joel wants to do with dinner theater..." He groaned again, silently, as he realized he didn't know much else about Audrey, other than where she lived, Max liked her, and she was a loyal member of the cast at Homespun Theater.

"Well, then, I suggest you get to know her better," Carlo said, when Steve related this. "Your leading lady holds your life in her hands, as you hold hers."

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JOAN by Michelle Levigne

JOAN by Michelle Levigne

Quarry Hall Book One

Joan escaped her terrorist mother at fourteen, and didn't know what an "ordinary" life was until she settled in Tabor Heights, seeking the baby sister their mother tried to kill one summer. After four years, she had made a new life, and refused to run away and start over, no matter how many threats came breathing down her neck. She had friends now, and she wasn't going to let anyone hurt them or drive her away from them.

After a series of catastrophes brought her to the breaking point, she received an invitation to visit Quarry Hall, home of the Arc Foundation, and run by a man who claimed to be her father. Joan went to see what he had to say. And despite all her self-preservation instincts, she grew to want to be part of Quarry Hall. But did she dare let go all her secrets, her pain, her shame? It wasn't that she couldn't believe in God -- but could God believe in her?

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EXCERPT

What kind of villain used twine to tie up his victims?

Joan's wrists itched from the fibers as she hobbled down the aisle between tall metal shelves full of grimy crates and packing boxes, and gave another experimental tug with her wrists bound behind her back. A sharp sensation flashed up her arm, followed by warm wet. Either sweat, or she had cut herself with the effort. She was betting on blood, because she had sat for four hours in a dark, grimy storage shed, sweating. The only thing that kept it from being a sweatbox straight out of a prison break movie was that it was made of plastic, not metal. All the time she sat there, no one had asked her any questions. She could have been another crate stored in the shed, for all the attention her captors paid her.

That was about to end, obviously. She would have preferred that they had put a hood over her head, but maybe that was a waste of time, since she had seen three of them. They didn't care what she saw, meaning they could keep her quiet and unable to use what she knew against them.

The man leading the way opened a door at the end of the shadowy aisle. Joan guessed the room was a pre-fabricated module, meant for dividing up large spaces to make them usable. All that mattered was that this room sat near the center of the warehouse. The man walking behind her grabbed her shoulder and half-guided, half-shoved her into the room. She stumbled, but the man who went in first, the beardless, taller one of the two, caught her. He copped a feel before pivoting her around, shoving her into a chair in the corner.

Matt sat in the other corner, hands bound behind him, his ankles tied to the battered wood-and-metal-tube chair with the same brown twine her captors had used on Joan. From the sweat and grime marking his face, darkening his clothes, matting his hair, he had been given the same temporary storage shed treatment. He had some bruises on his face and his bared arms, but no other signs of rough treatment. What was happening now, that they were brought together?

His eyes asked a thousand questions, but he didn't say anything.

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INVITATION TO A WEDDING by Michelle L. Levigne

INVITATION TO A WEDDING by Michelle L. Levigne

A Tabor Heights, Ohio Story

Stacy Belmont was "just" the housekeeper's granddaughter, according to the social snobs in Tabor Heights, and all during their school years, Gretchen Crenshaw fought to "put her in her place" and away from Dinah Ashcroft.

Time, careers, and distance created silence between Stacy and Dinah, who had once vowed to be each other's maid of honor. When Dinah eloped with her Marine hero, Gretchen took over to help plan the blow-out reception of the decade -- and keep Stacy out in the cold.

Drake came home from seminary for the party and knew something was wrong when Stacy left Dinah's present on the back step. When he set out to right a wrong -- Stacy was practically family, after all -- he discovered how important she was to him, and not just as his sister's best friend.

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EXCERPT

"Gretchen never called me." Stacy stopped at the head of the stairs.

"You just said you heard from her--"

"No, I overheard her in the store, loudly telling her cronies how she's the maid of honor and Dinah is depending on her for everything."

"That's only in her really warped imagination." He caught hold of her hands between his, and she realized how much her hands shook and felt icy. "Just this morning, Di said if this was her wedding, you'd still be her maid of honor."

"Really?" No way was she going to let those tears come, but it was a close battle.

"Yeah, and she's been wishing she never hooked up with Gretchen down in Virginia. You should have heard the fight they had over the favors. Di insisted on peach candy sticks and doves, but Gretchen kept saying bells and almonds are in. What doesn't she get that this is Di's party and not hers?"

"She's using the peach sticks and doves?"

Stacy lost the fight with the tears. The next thing she knew, Drake had his arms around her and she was soaking his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here to make sure everything works out." He sighed and tipped his head so his cheek pressed against her temple. "I know everything's a big mess right now, but honest, Stace, it's all a big mistake. We didn't mean to leave you out. Mom put your name at the top of the guest list and Di swears your name was the first one on the sheet of address labels."

"I guess I was kind of stupid, just sitting and waiting. I could have asked." She sniffled and thought about stepping out of Drake's arms, but she was afraid her wobbly knees might just fold underneath her. Besides, he smelled heavenly, spicy and warm and clean, and she would probably never again have a chance to be held tight against him like this. "I should have known your family wouldn't just shove me out in the cold, like Gre--"

"Like Gretchen has been saying we should do since you guys were in fourth grade? Yeah, like we'd let her tell us what's right and wrong?" Drake chuckled, and the sensation of his chest vibrating against her was delightful.

"Come on, Stace, you gotta come to the party. I mean, if not for Di, then for me."

"You?" A giggle burst out of her. She nearly lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, positive he was teasing her.

"Yeah, you gotta save me. Gretchen is trying to make sure I'm her date, and I'd rather get the plague than spend the evening with her. Do it for me?"

"Oh, of course, I have to defend your honor." Stacy sniffed and raised her head. She knew better than to look into his eyes as she reluctantly stepped out of his arms. Wiping her eyes, she managed a smile. "Don't you know I'd do anything for you, Drake Ashcroft?"

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ACCIDENTAL HEARTS by Michelle Levigne

ACCIDENTAL HEARTS by Michelle Levigne

A Tabor Heights, Ohio Novel

Tyler Sloane's sister and her children came to live with him when her marriage exploded. A summer of carting children to activities brought him into Abby Morgan's path, and friendship grew between her niece and nephew and his.

Abby was busy with her air courier service and helping her widowed brother raise his children. Common sense said she didn't have time for a relationship -- especially with a man as accident-prone as Tyler. But there comes a time in every woman's life when she has to throw out common sense and take a chance on love. That is, if accidents would stop plaguing her and Tyler, and four mischief-makers could agree that romance isn't "gross," and they should help Aunt Abby and Uncle Ty get together.

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EXCERPT

"Oh, yuck." Abby slowly stood. Strings of bright pink marred with dirty black streaks dripped from her fingers.

"What is it?" Tyler asked with that horrified expression that said he suspected what the answer would be.

"Looks like bubble gum." She turned to hide her grin. Her shoulders shook as she fought giggles.

"Did it ruin anything?"

"Well..." She scraped at the pink and black mess remaining on the cable ends. "Looks like someone was trying to make some repairs, actually."

"What?"

"These connections were snapped. Looks like someone tried to do a patch job with the bubble gum, but the heat melted it."

"Danny. And Pam. They're a matched set." He looked tired, but he grinned. "Too many MacGyver re-runs."

"This sounds good." She returned his grin. If this man had enemies, she suspected they were amusing, cute, and he had just dumped them at the camp hidden in the trees behind them. "Kids?"

"Kids." He sighed. "They broke my cell phone yesterday, otherwise I'd call for a tow. I can't fix anything."

Abby pulled her cell phone from her pocket to call Al. Why not? Her brother's kids had brought her here, so his towing business should profit.

"I'm going to kill him," Tyler said with a crooked grin that made Abby suspect he was proud of the little monster. She just nodded encouragement as she punched in Al's number. "Danny. I can't decide if he's inherited my mechanical ineptitude or not."

"How old?"

"Eight. And ten. Pam ought to know better, but that's her gum. Danny won't chew anything but grape."

"My monsters are ten and nine."

"That's right!" He slapped his thigh and gave her that crooked grin particular to men when they didn't want to admit they had done something stupid.

"Right?"

"I saw you at church a few weeks ago with your kids. You go to Tabor Christian, right?" He barely waited for her to nod she was feeling a little stunned at this point -- and gestured in the general direction of the registration pavilion, through the woods. "They looked so excited about whatever you were signing up for, I decided to check it out. That's how mine are here." He shrugged, his grin widening. "That's how I'm here, too, I guess."
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THE MISSION by Michelle L. Levigne

THE MISSION by Michelle Levigne

A Tabor Heights, Ohio Novel

Thanks to the Arc Foundation, the renovations Claire wanted for the Mission could now become reality. First on the list was a new head custodian to oversee the repairs. She welcomed Paul Hunter and his 5-year-old daughter Sammy, and was thankful for his wholehearted dedication to the Mission -- until she realized one of her deepest fears was having someone take over. Was Paul an ally, or a threat?

Paul welcomed a chance to take his daughter away from his hometown with its painful past and people who preferred to believe the lies about him and his dead wife. Tabor and the Mission were the fresh start and the ministry he had been looking for. He didn't even mind when Sammy took one look at Claire and asked if she was her new mother -- at least, not too much. He wasn't quite sure if he was ready to fall in love again, but if he ever did, Claire would be at the top of his list.

When painful remnants of their pasts followed both Claire and Paul to Tabor Heights, their growing, changing relationship and their faith in God were put to the test. Could they open up their hearts to each other enough to survive, and possibly make the new family that Sammy wanted?

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EXCERPT

Paul pulled the truck into the Holwoods' driveway and climbed out. Brock started making introductions. Paul stepped forward to shake Nikki's hand and the movement revealed a little figure curled up on the bench seat, just starting to stir. Claire barely heard Brock introduce her to Paul, who saw the direction of her gaze and turned back to the cab.

"Hey, sleepy." He reached in and gathered up a bundle of platinum curls, bare feet, and faded denim. Claire felt her face heat up. Proven wrong twice in less than ten minutes. This was not the rebellious adolescent she had envisioned. Sammy Hunter couldn't be more than five years old. An adorable, sleepy five years old. Paul cuddled her close, rubbed her back, and whispered to her as she scrubbed her eyes. When the child finally had both eyes open, her father introduced her to the three adults. Claire couldn't help comparing Paul Hunter with Rich Thomas, his obvious tenderness for his child versus the casual affection the fugitive custodian had sometimes spattered on his adoring little girl.

No doubt about it: Sammy Hunter was wanted long before she was born. Not an accident and burden like poor little Aurora Thomas.

"And this lady is Miss Donnelly. She's Daddy's new boss, too," Paul said, turning Sammy to face her.

"Miss Claire," she responded with a smile. "All the children call me that. I'm so glad to finally meet you, Sammy."

Claire felt her heart twist when the little girl's face lit up slowly, like sunrise. She sat up straight in her father's arms.

"Is she my new mommy?"

"Sammy--" Paul blushed a red so intense it was almost neon. "Miss Donnelly--"

"I prayed really hard," the child continued. "I asked God for a new mommy. I want you."

"Why?" Claire had to ask. She could barely speak, caught between an onslaught of tears, laughter, panic and hunger. Her arms actually ached with the need to cuddle Sammy close.

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WHITE ROSES by Michelle Levigne

WHITE ROSES by Michelle Levigne

A Tabor Heights, Ohio Novel

Twenty years ago, Toni's sister, Angel, was killed by her secret boyfriend. Now, the White Rose Killer is stalking and killing young women, searching for his true love. Toni is sure this is the same boy who killed Angel, grown to be a dangerous man.

Curt, assistant editor at the Tabor Picayune, has the same theory. They team up in a race against time to dig through the past to identify Angel's killer, before he chooses, terrorizes, and kills another victim.

To protect Toni from being chosen as the White Rose's next 'true love,' Curt and Toni pretend to be involved. Reluctant partnership turns to friendship and then to something more, but will it last beyond the unmasking of the killer?

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EXCERPT

"Donovan said he'd get somebody started checking places that supply greenhouses, and places that would provide building materials. But wouldn't they report something like that being stolen?" She brought the pot over to the table, shoved aside a stack of papers, and put it on a trivet in the center of the table.

Curt inhaled deeply of the fragrant steam rising out of the pot and groaned. "That is not jar sauce. Please tell me you made it."

"Gotta have something to do when you're frustrated and you can't get to the gym." Toni blushed and grinned and stepped over to the refrigerator to pull out a big bowl of salad. "With a name like Napolitano, I better be able to make a decent pot of sauce."

"You are the perfect woman. Marry me."

Curt held his breath and went stone still, afraid to look at Toni. She, on the other hand, started dishing up the spaghetti as if she hadn't heard what he said. If she did hear, she didn't react. He slowly, cautiously released his breath, and congratulated himself that Toni knew him so well, she knew he was joking.

That was good, wasn't it?

"What if Donovan doesn't find any report of that greenhouse panel being stolen?" Toni continued, as she dished up her own spaghetti.

"How much surplus do you think anyone has sitting around?" he countered, and concentrated on twirling strands around his fork. He flinched when Toni reached over and slapped his hand.

"Bless the mess before you eat, okay?" She grinned at him when he looked up at her, startled and half-guilty.

Curt nearly took hold of her hands before he bowed his head to pray, just like he had seen dating couples do at Singles outings for church. That urge scared him, so he ended up clasping his hands together tightly in his lap. What was wrong with him lately?

For a few minutes after he said 'amen,' neither one said anything, busy with scooping up salad and putting dressing on it. He groaned at the first spicy, rich taste of the dark red spaghetti sauce. In college, he had lived on spaghetti and other inexpensive food, but instead of getting sick of it, Curt had turned himself into a connoisseur. Toni's creation ranked up there with the best he had ever tasted. She laughed when he told her so.

"Flattery will get you a quart to take home, if you really like it that much."

"Forget about taking it home. I'll drink it instead of coffee."

"Low blood sugar. Definitely. You're getting loopy." She picked through her salad bowl for a moment. "Okay, the greenhouse panel. What if it was never reported stolen because the White Rose owns a greenhouse?"

"That'd make sense. They've been trying to use the roses as a lead, but no luck." Curt chewed for a minute or two while he thought it over. "He grows roses for himself, to give his victims."

"I didn't see anything about greenhouses or even belonging to a garden club, when I looked through the list. Did you?" Toni sighed and shrugged when Curt thought a moment and shook his head. "Got the feeling we'll spend the whole evening looking through the disks Baxter gave us?"

"Just keep the spaghetti coming."

Toni laughed, and that suited Curt just fine.

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FORGIVEN by Michelle Levigne

FORGIVEN by Michelle Levigne
A Tabor Heights, Ohio Novel

Four years ago, Nikki James ran away from home to be with Brock Pierson. She was 17, and he was 25. They both thought they were in love, but Brock had dangerous secrets that nearly killed Nikki -- and did kill their baby shortly after she was born.

Now, Nikki works for the Arc Foundation, a philanthropic organization. She has her life back on track, and her spiritual life as well. Arc sends her home to Tabor Heights, to assess the Mission and determine if Arc should partner with Nikki's home chuch to fund the Mission and expand its outreach.

Nikki has to face the people who watched her grow up and who know the mess she made of her life. She has to face the boy who broke her heart in high school -- and drove her into Brock's arms.

And she has to face Brock, because he is out of jail and determined to make up for his past crimes -- and win her heart back.

The only problem is that some dangerous men from Brock's past have followed him to Tabor Heights as well.

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EXCERPT

"Could I see her grave?" he asked, getting up slowly, like a creaky old grandfather, from the bench against the wall parallel to the stairs. It was a good guess that he had been waiting for her to come downstairs again.

Nikki was just too tired to argue. This wasn't like all the times she swallowed misgivings to make Brock happy. She wasn't scalding her conscience and building a callous that let her do stupid things. She would never throw aside what she knew was right to make someone else happy, ever again. No matter how much she thought she loved him. No matter how much she thought he loved her.

This was keeping the peace, so he would leave as quickly and quietly as possible. Still, she couldn't help resisting a little bit.

"Why? She's not really there."

"I know that. It's just... I was getting all geared up to learn how to be a daddy... and now I'll never know."

"If I had aborted her like you ordered me, there wouldn't even be a marker."

"Nikki!" He stomped away a few steps, whirled and spread his arms as if he would lunge at her. Or hug her. Nikki held her ground, stunned to realize she hoped he would hit her so she could fight back. Vincent and Joan had taught her to hold her ground and defend herself -- but never to provoke arguments, never trick someone into attacking her. What was wrong with her?

Arguing and deliberately baiting someone wasn't approved behavior for a representative of the Arc Foundation. Nikki knew Joan and the Carters would be disappointed, at the very least.

Worse, Jesus would be disappointed. She worked for the Arc Foundation to do good in the world, to heal wounds -- and here she was picking at her own wounds, and Brock's, deliberately making them worse. What was wrong with her? Was it just fatigue? Or hadn't she healed as much as she thought?

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FIRESONG by Michelle Levigne

FIRESONG - A Tabor Heights, Ohio Story From Michelle Levigne

Dani Paul's parents died when she was eleven. She threw herself into her brother and cousins' fledgling band and devoted herself to ministry. Nine years later, Firesong was ready to break into the big-time.

Kurt Green came back to Tabor Heights to prepare for a crusade and celebrate his cousin Katie's marriage to Dani's brother, Andy. As the summer wore on, he found more and more in common with Dani -- music, dedication to ministry, love for Katie and Andy, pain and faith during tragedy, and a belief that ministry and marriage didn't mix. But Kurt realized he might be wrong, especially where Dani was concerned.

Now he just had to convince her that two could handle a traveling ministry just as well, if not better, than one.

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EXCERPT

Kurt stood in the back of the auditorium with his mouth hanging open and didn't care if anyone saw him. He had been impressed at the Mission, but that had been Firesong having fun with friends. Here, this was Firesong polished and sparkling, professional without being slick. Dani glowed, even when the spotlight didn't track her as the lead.

He wished he had a dozen roses to give her when she walked off the stage. He wished he had the right to kiss her when he told her how wonderfully the band performed.

"Hot stuff," the bass player for the White Knights said, with a chuckle just loud enough for Kurt to hear. The only reason they had come to the opening meeting of the conference was because there was nothing else to do on campus. "Think we can get her to quit those dweebs and sing with us?"

"Wonder which one she belongs to?" the drummer said.

"Three are her cousins," Kurt said, leaning over the back of the seats, close enough to smell the musky perfume someone had bathed in. "The one at the keyboard is her big brother. Lay one hand on her, and they'll break more than your drumsticks."

For once, he saw something like respect in the snot's face. Kurt wished he could have made stronger threats. He felt soiled, as if it were his fault these immature hypocrites ogled Dani.

Still, how could anyone not want to get close enough to look in her eyes and hold her hand, put an arm around her and even dare to taste the sweetness of her kiss? Dani was the epitome of the inner beauty Paul had praised in his epistle. It wasn't her fault that it made cretins want to own her.

"Please, Lord," Kurt whispered as Firesong slid into their third number of the evening, "keep her safe."

He fully intended to hand the White Knights over to a conference worker at the end of the opening ceremonies and hurry backstage to congratulate Firesong and warn them, but his cell phone rang. The crusade team in Tabor Heights had an emergency -- the fairgrounds had been booked for the crusade for eight months now, but now the administrators suddenly claimed someone else had priority. A one-day event in the middle of the crusade week. Kurt wished he could simply pass the task of straightening things out to someone else, but he was the leader of the team for another month, until his superiors came to town and took over. He also knew who to call and what buttons to push and strings to pull.

He handed the White Knights over to another guard and hurried off to do his most important job. He would have to trust God to keep Dani safe.

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BEHIND THE SCENES by Michelle Levigne

BEHIND THE SCENES - A Tabor Heights, Ohio Novel by Michelle Levigne

Max Randolph and Tony Martin were best friends and writing partners. She had moments of wishing for something more, something warmer, closer, in their relationship, but with the specter of her mother's mistakes when she had been a Hollywood starlet -- resulting in Max's birth -- she wasn't about to risk what she had by reaching for something that Tony probably wasn't interested in at all.

It took a writer-in-residence job and an extended stay away from Tabor Heights to make Tony realize what he wanted most -- Max, in every part of his life.

Then Max's parents were involved in a brutal accident and Tony rushed home to Tabor Heights to support her and her brothers. He promised Max she would never be alone again -- but with a Shakespearean production and book deadlines and stolen identities to deal with, when would things calm down enough for him to tell her everything that was part of that promise?

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EXCERPT

Brenda stayed after rehearsal that night to get Tony's opinion on her latest short story. She and Max hung up costumes while he read. Max knew better than to watch him and try to predict his opinion from his face. Brenda hadn't learned that lesson yet, and she kept running into Max because she didn't watch where she went.

To make matters worse, every time they ran into each other, Brenda contorted her face, obviously trying to communicate something without speaking. Finally, Max caught her by the arm and led her around the shelving to give them a little privacy.

"What?" she whispered.

"He loves you." Brenda smirked and crossed her arms and leaned back against the shelving full of glassware.

"What?" Max barely remembered to keep her voice down, instead of shrieking it.

"You said that if Tony really loved you, he would jump on the next plane and come back from California. And he did that, didn't he?"

"He drove. No plane."

"Details, details." She slid an arm around Max's shoulders, drawing her closer. "So? How was it?"

"How was what?" She felt a little breathless, and about two steps behind. Nothing else. She couldn't seem to get her brain to keep up with Brenda. Maybe that was a good thing?

"The kiss." Brenda groaned and shook her twice. "I figure when a guy confesses his all-consuming passion, that demands a great kiss. So, was it great?"

"He didn't confess anything. And the way he smelled after driving all that way without stopping... no way was I going to offer." Max shivered, remembering how close she had come to kissing Tony. If her brothers and Rose hadn't been there, she suspected even the aroma of dirty clothes and hair wouldn't have stopped her.

"He didn't..." She scowled. "Well, did you confess to him?"

"Are you nuts?"

"No, but I think both of you are hopeless." Brenda sniffed, turned sharply on her heel, and stalked back to where Tony read and waited.

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