Thursday, February 4, 2016

Lisa J. Flickinger presents "All that Glitters!"

We're happy to have Lisa J. Flickinger with us today talking about her book, All That Glitters. Welcome, Lisa!

Lisa J. Flickinger

 Lately, the Lord has been reminding me of faithfulness and His desire to see faithfulness in the little things of my day. Like how I treat the neighbor who won’t shovel their sidewalk or how I respond to the annoying teen who keeps patting my head at church.

Sure I can cry out for revival and expect the Lord to do a great and marvelous work. I hope He does. But while I’m waiting, He’s asking me to be filled with His love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness … and to share the same with my family, friends, and strangers.

All That Glitters is my first historical novel it released in paperback through Ambassador International February 2, 2016.

All That Glitters

The bedroom door opened; Vivian Connor clutched her embroi­dery hoop tighter, and her needle paused in midair, the indigo blue floss dangling.
Her younger sister Virginia stomped into the room and threw herself onto the bed. “I think . . . I think I’ll suffocate if I have to stay in this house one more minute.” She kicked her feet and hit the coverlet with clenched fists.
Not again. The pockmarks in the rose-colored wallpaper across the room were a reminder of the last “unfortunate incident” as Mother called it. Was it just a week ago? Father had replaced her brush, comb, and mirror with the sterling silver set arranged on the chiffo­nier. They must have cost dearly—too dearly for a family without any wages. Tucking a ringlet behind one ear, Vivian stood and crossed the room hiding the gift from Virginia’s view. “All right, Virginia, what is it now?”
“Father decided I couldn’t go to the Fireman’s Ball on Saturday. I asked him a week ago when Logan asked me. He said he doesn’t know Logan Harris well enough to trust his daughter with him, but I’ve known him for a whole month.”
“Ginny,” The soothing tone masked the exasperation bubbling in her stomach. “You know Father can’t abide one of your fits right now. And furthermore, he’s right. No one knows anything about your so-called hero, Logan.”
“I know everything I need to know.”
“Well then, has he told you where the money he flashes around town comes from?” No, and he wouldn’t, either. His kind had been seen before: arrogant, pushy, and good-looking enough to get away with it.
Ginny sat up and pinned Vivian with bright blue eyes. Her chin lifted, and a slight smirk appeared on her lips. “I didn’t think discuss­ing where either of our fortunes came from was important.”
“Fortunes? What fortune? Our family’s situation is worse now than ever before with Father so sick. Oh, Ginny, you didn’t!” As Vivian’s fingernails pierced the palms of her clenched fists, the pain was a reminder to be civil. One must always be civil.
Ginny fussed with the pearl button on the edge of her wrist cuff and gave an exaggerated huff.
One . . . two . . . three . . . deep breaths. “Ginny, did you lead Logan to believe Aunt Margaret’s home was our own?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” It was hopeless to keep her voice from rising. “You mean you neglected to tell him we were only living here until Mother and Father decided what to do?”
“I didn’t think it was important, and frankly, he didn’t ask. All that really matters is that we have each other,” Ginny lay back on the bed once more and spread her arms out with her dainty fingers extended and sighed. “You’ll understand some day when you’re in love, like Logan and I are.”

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