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Today we’re happy to be reading Marilyn Meredith’s mystery novel, Invisible Path, the latest book in her Deputy Tempe Crabtree series. Marilyn will be with us for the next three days and will be giving away a copy of her book at the end of her stay on Wednesday. Announcement of winner will be posted on Thursday.

To become eligible to win, all you have to do is ask a question or leave a comment on all three days. One lucky reader who comments with their email address is put in a pot to win the book. However, you must sign up for our email updates.

To recap:

•ask a question or leave a comment on all three days
•leave your email address
•sign up for our email updates in the top left hand sidebar

That’s all there is to it!

Day Three: Literarily Speaking Book Club Selection: Invisible Path by Marilyn Meredith

Invisible_PathWhile Tempe’s son, Blair is home from Christmas break, he and his roommate from college do a bit of snooping to find out about the para-military group who’ve been seen driving through town. When a young popular Indian is found dead near the recovery center on the reservation, Tempe is called in to help with the investigation. Another Native American but a newcomer to the rez, Jesus Running Bear, is the only suspect. A hidden pregnancy, a quest to find the Hairy Man, and a visit to the pseudo soldiers’ compound put Jesus and Tempe in jeopardy.

Read the excerpt:

Despite it being Wednesday, Tempe knew as soon as her radio blared to life, and her cell phone rang at the same time, she wouldn’t make it home for dinner.

The dispatcher informed her a body had been discovered on the Bear Creek Indian Reservation and she was directed to go there as quickly as possible to help Cruz Murphy, the reservation’s Public Safety Chief, preserve the scene. The location was reported to be near the Bear Creek Recovery Center, which was located about a quarter mile past the Painted Rock site that sheltered ancient pictographs. The recovery center was at the end of the main road that passed through the reservation.

The cell phone call was from Detective Morrison with the same message, except delivered in his usual curt manner. Once she told him she was already on her way to the crime scene, he added, “Find out what you can from the Indians and let me know. I’ll be out there as soon as I can.”

Though the relationship between Tempe and the detective had improved somewhat over the last year, he still had the mistaken notion that because she had Native American blood in her veins, any Indian would respond to her immediately and tell her everything she wanted to know.

Because it was December, it was already dark as Tempe sped along the narrow curving road to her destination. She’d taken the road often enough in the daytime to know that ranches and homes were tucked in here and there—though at this time of night, she caught only glimpses of lighted windows as she raced by. She had her emergency lights turned on, along with her siren, just to warn of her approach.

Finally she reached the carved and painted wooden sign that announced she was entering the Bear Creek Indian Reservation. Tempe knew that a reservation was first created at the eastern end of Dennison in 1857 in order to gather together scattered bands of Indians, but as the town grew, it became inconvenient for many of the local citizens to have so many Indians as neighbors. In 1873, by presidential order, a new location for the reservation was established on 54,000 acres, much of it mountainous.

Narrow and winding, the road continued with dwellings on either side, scattered in the valleys and across the hillsides. She passed the turn-off to Bear Mountain Casino but slowed down as she drove through the part of the rez that contained the public safety building and the medical center. Two churches perched on a hillside off to the left. Across the way were the child-development center and pre-school and the building that housed the tribal council. Other community services and the new fire station were located on other side streets. Once past the hub of the rez, Tempe drove by more homes spread farther and farther apart and deeper into reservation land.

When she passed the place where the old lumber mill once operated and was now used for rodeos and Pow Wows, she knew she was getting close. The asphalt ended and she continued driving. On her right were the huge boulders that created the cave that protected pictographs of the legendary Hairy Man and his family, as well as other colorful Indian symbols.

The Hairy Man was a Yokut legend considered sacred to the tribe. She knew he was also believed to be powerful medicine. When Tempe was a little girl, her grandmother told her stories about the legend. Over the years, many Indians reported sightings of the Hairy Man.

Tempe had experienced her own encounter with the Hairy Man. The startling event wasn’t something she’d shared with anyone except Hutch and Chief Murphy. During the investigation of the murder of a county supervisor a few months earlier, she’d learned more about the Hairy Man. When she’d been trapped by the supervisor’s killer, the legend had saved her life.

As time passed, the memory of the event became less and less real—sometimes she wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing.

Ahead, red, blue and white lights flashed from emergency vehicles: the Bear Creek Public Safety truck that Chief Murphy drove, an ambulance, and a fire truck. Numerous people milled about in the shadows.

She parked behind the other vehicles. She didn’t see the vans belonging to either the coroner or the crime scene investigator. Before Tempe even had her door open, Chief Murphy appeared out of the shadows, striding toward her. Cruz Murphy’s mother was Yanduchi like Tempe, but his father was Irish—hence the unusual surname. His skin, hair and eyes were dark, but his features displayed more of his Irish heritage. Muscular, he filled out his tan uniform.

She slid out of the truck, and hurried toward him. “Chief Murphy, good to see you. What’s going on?”

“Cruz, please. I think we know each other well enough by now to be on a first name basis.”

“Cruz it is.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Tempe. The victim is from the reservation. The crime scene has been seriously contaminated. One of the residents of the recovery center discovered the body. Once he set off the alarm, the staff and other clients were all over the place. Soon as I got here, I shooed everyone away and cordoned off the area with tape. Too late, I’m afraid.”

“Has the crime scene investigator been called?”

Murphy nodded. “And the coroner. They should arrive fairly soon.”

Since they had to come all the way from Visalia, it would be awhile. “Have you identified the victim?” Tempe followed Murphy toward the crowd of spectators.

“A young Indian named Danny Tofoya.”

His name sounded vaguely familiar. “You say he lived here on the rez?”

“Yes, he and his extended family are long time residents.”

“Any suspects?”

“There are plenty of rumors. People are saying a young man named Jesus Running Bear probably did it.”

“Who is he?”

Book Club Questions:

1. Though Bear Creek Indian Reservation is a fictional place, it is based loosely on the Tule River Indian Reservation which is real. As a reader, do you like to read about Native Americans and perhaps learn a bit about how they live in modern times?

2. Because the Deputy Tempe Crabtree series is a mystery series, there is always a murder. In this one, the murder victim is a young man who lived on the reservation and was quite popular. Of course things are not always as they seem at first. As a reader, do you like to follow along as the main character tries to solve the mystery?

3. Jesus Running Bear is named as the first suspect. Tempe is known for not accepting the first and most easily pointed out suspect in a murder case. If you were the main person investigating a case like this, would you look for others who might have had a motive to kill the murder victim?

Answer either of the questions below in the comment box to become eligible to win a free copy of Invisible Path on Thursday!

Stay tuned tomorrow for the announcement of the winner of a copy of Invisible Path by Marilyn Meredith!

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Today we’re happy to be reading Marilyn Meredith’s mystery novel, Invisible Path, the latest book in her Deputy Tempe Crabtree series. Marilyn will be with us for the next three days and will be giving away a copy of her book at the end of her stay on Wednesday. Announcement of winner will be posted on Thursday.

To become eligible to win, all you have to do is ask a question or leave a comment on all three days. One lucky reader who comments with their email address is put in a pot to win the book. However, you must sign up for our email updates.

To recap:

  • ask a question or leave a comment on all three days
  • leave your email address
  • sign up for our email updates in the top left hand sidebar

That’s all there is to it!

Day Two: Literarily Speaking Book Club Selection: Invisible Path by Marilyn Meredith

Invisible_PathWhile Tempe’s son, Blair is home from Christmas break, he and his roommate from college do a bit of snooping to find out about the para-military group who’ve been seen driving through town. When a young popular Indian is found dead near the recovery center on the reservation, Tempe is called in to help with the investigation. Another Native American but a newcomer to the rez, Jesus Running Bear, is the only suspect. A hidden pregnancy, a quest to find the Hairy Man, and a visit to the pseudo soldiers’ compound put Jesus and Tempe in jeopardy.

Read the excerpt:

 “What do you know about those weekend soldiers?” Blair asked, leaning back in the chair in the kitchen. Tempe’s son was home from college for the winter holiday. His chest had filled out, his shoulders seemed wider—and his blond hair was cut short and bleached even lighter thanks to much time spent in the sun. He’d inherited none of his mother’s Native American coloring or features.

Tempe had no idea what he was talking about. “What weekend soldiers?”

“I went up to the fire station early this morning to let them know I’d be here for awhile if they needed my help. After I parked, what looked like a military convoy passed me heading toward the mountains. Four jeeps, two trucks with canvas covers, all in camouflage.”

“Strange. I’ve never heard about the Army or the Reserves doing any training around here.” Tempe poured herself a cup of coffee. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Oh yeah. Where’s Hutch?”

Smiling, she sat across from her son at the small oak table in the wooden cottage she had inherited from an aunt and shared with Hutch since their marriage several years ago. Knowing Blair would be home for a few weeks filled her with happiness. “He’s at the church working on his sermon for tomorrow.” Tempe’s husband was the pastor of the only church in the mountain community of Bear Creek located in the mountains of the Southern Sierra where she was the resident deputy. “He hoped if you didn’t have plans we could do something together later. Of course, I’ll have to go on duty at four.”

“Still don’t get weekends off?”

She shook her head. “Nope, nothing much changes as far as my job goes.”

“Maybe we can do something fun, but Mom, I’m still curious about these pseudo soldiers.”

“How can you be sure they aren’t real soldiers?”

“A bunch of reasons. I called Chief Roundtree and asked him what he knew. He’s noticed them too and called the National Guard Armory in Dennison. There are no known maneuvers in this part of the Sierra.”

Roundtree was the Fire Chief at Bear Creek’s fire station solely manned by volunteers. He also was a Yanduchi and a good friend. He’d been a volunteer fireman since he’d turned eighteen and while holding down various jobs. Tempe had encouraged him to apply for the position of Fire Chief.

Tempe sipped her coffee and thought a bit. “Maybe they’re going somewhere to play paintball.”

“Could be, I suppose. When I was in high school we used to play paintball in one of my friend’s dad’s orange grove.” A frown marred Blair’s handsome face. The older he got, the more he resembled his father. What a shame Blair never had the opportunity to know his dad. A highway patrolman, he’d been killed by a drunk driver when his son was only three. “I think you ought to check them out, Mom. No telling what they’re up to. Maybe they’ve got a pot farm going.”

Tempe considered that idea. Marijuana gardens were discovered quite often in the mountains, especially on State and National Forest land. “Maybe, but usually the guys that do that wouldn’t want to draw attention to themselves by driving through town as a group that’s so easily identifiable.”

“I still think you ought to check them out.” Blair scooted back his chair and stood. “I’m going to start doing my laundry. If Hutch comes home fairly soon, we could drive up in the mountains and see if we can find where these guys are hanging out.”

She knew it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack, but Tempe didn’t say that. Instead, she offered, “Sure, since the weather is still so pleasant, a drive in the mountains would be nice. I’ll give Hutch a call and tell him our plans and I’ll put a lunch together.”

Book Club Questions:

1. Where I live in the foothills of the Sierra, I’ve seen people dressed up like soldiers driving Jeeps and trucks who weren’t connected to any real military groups heading up to the mountains. Though I didn’t know what they were doing, it was enough to make me want to write a story about them. Have you ever seen any pseudo military groups where you live? And if so, do you know anything about them?

2. Tempe’s son Blair has always loved being a firefighter. In the mountains of the Sierra where I live, we have a volunteer fire-department that not only fights wild fires and house fires, but also goes on medical emergencies. What kind of fire protection do you have where you live?

3. In California, the growing of marijuana is an on-going problem. We often hear the helicopters flying overhead as they search for hidden pot farms in the foothills and mountains. What do you think might be the danger for civilians who come across marijuana growing on state or federal lands?

Answer any of the questions below in the comment box to become eligible to win a free copy of Invisible Path on Thursday!

Stay tuned tomorrow for Day 3 of Literarily Speaking’s Book Club Selection: Invisible Path by Marilyn Meredith!

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Today we’re happy to be reading Marilyn Meredith’s mystery novel, Invisible Path, the latest book in her Deputy Tempe Crabtree series.  Marilyn will be with us for the next three days and will be giving away a copy of her book at the end of her stay on Wednesday.  Announcement of winner will be posted on Thursday.

To become eligible to win, all you have to do is ask a question or leave a comment on all three days. One lucky reader who comments with their email address is put in a pot to win the book. However, you must sign up for our email updates.

To recap:

  • ask a question or leave a comment on all three days
  • leave your email address
  • sign up for our email updates in the top left hand sidebar

That’s all there is to it!

Day One: Literarily Speaking Book Club Selection: Invisible Path by Marilyn Meredith

Invisible_PathWhile Tempe’s son, Blair is home from Christmas break, he and his roommate from college do a bit of snooping to find out about the para-military group who’ve been seen driving through town. When a young popular Indian is found dead near the recovery center on the reservation, Tempe is called in to help with the investigation. Another Native American but a newcomer to the rez, Jesus Running Bear, is the only suspect. A hidden pregnancy, a quest to find the Hairy Man, and a visit to the pseudo soldiers’ compound put Jesus and Tempe in jeopardy.

Read the excerpt:

“Jesus, I need to talk to you.”

My grandma was the only one who could get away with pronouncing my name like Jesus in the Bible. My friends say it like “Hay-soos.” Grandma didn’t like it when she heard someone say my name like that. She usually corrected whoever it was by saying, “My grandson is not Mexican, he is Indian. His name is Jesus Running Bear.”

I don’t know what inspired my mother to give me such a name, and she wasn’t around to ask.

Grandma fixed her small dark eyes on me. When she smiled her eyes became crescent moons. She wasn’t smiling now. Whatever it was she wanted to say, it had to be important.

I put down the bowl I’d gotten out of the cupboard. Breakfast would have to wait.

“You’ve been thinking about something a lot. Something that’s going to give you problems.” Grandmother’s face was round, weathered, and brown as a nut. Her gray hair was pulled straight back and arranged in a bun. Wiry strands escaped and poked out around her ears and the nape of her neck. She wore a man’s red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, over a pair of faded blue jeans. Beneath the baggy clothes, she was slim and muscled. Her toes peeked out from a pair of worn leather sandals.

I loved my grandma; after all she was the one who raised me after my mother left me alone while she went on a three day drunk. My uncle found me and brought me to grandmother’s house where I’ve been ever since. No, I don’t miss my mother because I don’t even remember her. I only know what I’ve been told about her—not much of it good.

I wasn’t sure what kind of problem Grandma meant. Sure, I’d been going down to the beer joints with my cousin and friends even though I knew she didn’t want me drinking. Maybe that’s what this was about. I respected my grandmother, but I hadn’t obeyed her warning about never touching alcohol. She hated alcohol. Grandfather had died from drinking too much. Maybe my mother was dead too. No one had heard from her in years.

“Come. Sit down.” She motioned to the chair where I usually sat. In front of her was a cup of tea. “We’re going to find out exactly what is going on with you.”

I sat on the edge of the seat. She was going to do some weird Indian stuff. We were Miwok—though we didn’t live on or near a reservation. We lived in a small town in the foothills above Modesto which is in the Central Valley of California. Frankly, I didn’t know much about my heritage except what my grandma told me.

She was an amazing woman, and could do so many things. I was proud of most of what she did. She knew how to gather herbs that could cure most sicknesses. She wove beautiful baskets that she sold at Pow Wows and to tourists in gift shops in Yosemite and other places.

When I was a kid, she took me on camping trips into the back country. She could out hike me even today. But I wasn’t crazy about all the Indian stuff she did that I didn’t understand.

Grandma stared into the cup and began speaking in her native language. That’s what she always did when she was concentrating on something.

She lifted her head and fixed her eyes on me again. “You’re looking for a girlfriend. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Well, sure. What young guy isn’t trying to find a girl? But for once I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut.

Again, she peered into the cup. “I see all kinds of women. Be careful not to choose the wrong one. If you do, you’ll be miserable.”

She stared and her eyes looked funny, like she was seeing something far, far away.

I squirmed, wondering where this was leading. Maybe she already had someone picked out for me.

“I see a pretty girl with a nice figure. She has long straight hair, clear down to her waist. She’ll wiggle her plump bottom and you won’t be able to think. Women have power–especially young pretty ones. Don’t you so much as give her more than a passing glance. If you do, you’ll be miserable your whole life.” Grandma didn’t look up.

In my mind I could see the pretty girl walking down the street, her shiny black hair swinging back and forth like her hips.

After a few minutes my day dream ended when Grandma said, “There’s another one. Short and skinny like I was when I was young. But beware, she’s nothing like me. This one is sneaky. She’ll act like she cares for you when she has lots of other men.”

Interesting. This was more fun than I’d expected.

Book Club Questions:

1. This selection is from the first chapter of Invisible Path and the introduction to one of the major characters. He has an usual first name, do you think that having a name like that affected his life?

2. Do you have any one in your family or know anyone who makes predictions?

3. What kind of girlfriend do you think Jesus Running Bear would have preferred?

Answer either of the questions below in the comment box to become eligible to win a free copy of Invisible Path on Thursday!

Stay tuned tomorrow for Day 2 of Literarily Speaking’s Book Club Selection: Invisible Path by Marilyn Meredith!

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Seven Year Switch 2Enter to win a free copy of Claire Cook’s SEVEN YEAR SWITCH at Carpe Libris today on Day Ten of her virtual book tour with Pump Up Your Book!!!

Jill Murray is content living a man-free existence. She’s got Anastasia, her ten-year-old daughter, and a sweet little bungalow to call home. Life as a cultural coach didn’t turn out quite the way she planned, but between answering phones for Great Girlfriend Getaways and teaching Lunch Around the World classes, the dust in this Jill-of-all-trades life is starting to settle.

Then her ex-husband comes back.

They say that every seven years you become a completely new person, and Jill has long ago stopped wishing her deadbeat husband would return. Now she has to face the fact there’s simply no way she can be a good mom without letting Seth back into their daughter’s life. But why can’t she seem to hold herself together around him? And then there’s Billy, the free-spirited, bike-riding entrepreneur who hires Jill as a consultant. When their business relationship seems destined for something more Jill’s no-boys-allowed life is suddenly anything but.

It takes a Costa Rican getaway to help Jill make her choice — between the woman she is and the woman she wants to be. It’s a wild ride, sure to thrill Claire Cook’s many fans, complete with laughter, revelations, and one heckuva big tarantula.

Deadline: July 31, ‘10

Enter here to win!

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Every month, we pick wonderful books we’ve read to spotlight at Literarily Speaking. Today we’re happy to be reading Claire Cook’s book, Seven Year Switch (Hyperion).  Not only will she be giving us a glimpse into her book, but she will be giving a copy of her book away, too!  Announcement of winner will be on Monday, July 26 so check back here to see if you’ve won!

To become eligible to win, all you have to do is answer the book club questions below. One lucky reader who answers the most questions and leaves their email address is put in a pot to win the book. However, they must sign up for our email updates prior to the author’s appearance.

To recap:

  • answer as many questions as you can (you can always go back later and answer more to stay ahead of the competition!)
  • leave your email address
  • sign up for our email updates to the left

That’s all there is to it!

Seven Year Switch 2Literarily Speaking Book Club Selection: Seven Year Switch by Claire Cook

Jill Murray is content living a man-free existence. She’s got Anastasia, her ten-year-old daughter, and a sweet little bungalow to call home. Life as a cultural coach didn’t turn out quite the way she planned, but between answering phones for Great Girlfriend Getaways and teaching Lunch Around the World classes, the dust in this Jill-of-all-trades life is starting to settle.

Then her ex-husband comes back.

They say that every seven years you become a completely new person, and Jill has long ago stopped wishing her deadbeat husband would return. Now she has to face the fact there’s simply no way she can be a good mom without letting Seth back into their daughter’s life. But why can’t she seem to hold herself together around him? And then there’s Billy, the free-spirited, bike-riding entrepreneur who hires Jill as a consultant. When their business relationship seems destined for something more Jill’s no-boys-allowed life is suddenly anything but.

It takes a Costa Rican getaway to help Jill make her choice — between the woman she is and the woman she wants to be. It’s a wild ride, sure to thrill Claire Cook’s many fans, complete with laughter, revelations, and one heckuva big tarantula.

Read the Excerpt!

Excerpted from Seven Year Switch by Claire Cook.

Copyright © 2010 CLAIRE COOK. All rights reserved.

Published by VOICE, an imprint of Hyperion.

Chapter One

I sailed into the community center just in time to take my Lunch Around the World class to China. I hated to be late, but my daughter Anastasia had forgotten part of her school project.

“Oh, honey,” I’d said when she called from the school office. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I’m just leaving for work.” I tried not to wallow in it, but sometimes the logistics of being a single mom were pretty exhausting.

“Mom,” she whispered, “it’s a diorama of a cow’s habitat, and I forgot the cow.”

I remembered seeing the small plastic cow grazing next to Anastasia’s cereal bowl at breakfast, but how it had meandered into the dishwasher was anyone’s guess.  I gave it a quick rinse under the faucet and let it air dry on the ride to school.  From there I high-tailed it to the community center.

Though it wasn’t the most challenging part of my work week, this Monday noon to two o’clock class got me home before my daughter, which in the dictionary of my life, made it the best kind of gig. Sometimes I even had time for a cup of tea before her school bus came rolling down the street. Who knew a cup of tea could be the most decadent part of your day.

I plopped my supplies on the kitchen counter and jumped right in “In Chinese cooking, it’s important to balance colors as well as contrasts in tastes and textures.”

“Take a deep breath, honey,” one of my favorite students said. Her name was Ethel and she had bright orange lips and I Love Lucy hair. “We’re not going anywhere.”

A man with white hair and matching eyebrows started singing “On a Slow Boat to China.” A couple of the women giggled. I took that deep breath.

Yum cha is one of the best ways to experience this,” I continued. “Literally yum cha means “drinking tea,” but it actually encompasses both the tea drinking and the eating of dim sum, a wide range of light dishes served in small portions.”

“Yum-yum,” a man named Tom said. His thick glasses were smudged with fingerprints, and he was wearing a T-shirt that said Tune in Tomorrow for a Different Shirt.

“Let’s hope,” I said. “In any case, dim sum has many translations: ‘small eats,’ of course, but also ‘heart’s delight,’ ‘to touch your heart,’ and even ‘small piece of heart.’ I’ve often wondered if Janis Joplin decided to sing the song she made famous after a dim sum experience.”

Last night when I was planning my lesson, this had seemed like a brilliant and totally original cross-cultural connection, but everybody just nodded politely.

We made dumplings and pot stickers and mini spring rolls, and then we moved on to fortune cookies. Custard tarts or even mango pudding would have been more culturally accurate, but fortune cookies were always a crowd pleaser. I explained that the crispy, sage-laced cookies had actually been invented in San Francisco, and tried to justify my choice by adding that the original inspiration for fortune cookies possibly dated back to the thirteenth century, when Chinese soldiers slipped rice paper messages into mooncakes to help coordinate their defense against Mongolian invaders.

Last night Anastasia had helped me cut small strips of white paper to write the fortunes on. And because the cookies had to be wrapped around the paper as soon as they came out of the oven while they were still pliable, I’d bought packages of white cotton gloves at CVS and handed out one to each person. The single gloves kept the students’ hands from burning and were less awkward than potholders would have been.

They also made the class look like aging Michael Jackson impersonators. A couple of the women started to sing “Beat It” while they stirred the batter, and then everybody else joined in. There wasn’t a decent singer in the group, but some of them could still remember how to moonwalk.

After we finished packing up some to take home, we’d each placed one of our cookies in a big bamboo salad bowl. There’d been more giggling as we passed the bowl around the long, wobbly wooden table and took turns choosing a cookie and reading the fortune, written by an anonymous classmate, out loud.

“The time is right to make new friends.”

“A great adventure is in your near future.”

“A tall dark-haired man will come into your life.”

“You will step on the soil of many countries, so don’t forget to pack clean socks.”

“The one you love is closer than you think,” Ethel read. Her black velour sweat suit was dusted with flour.

“Oo-ooh,” the two friends taking the class with her said. One of them elbowed her.

The fortune cookies were a hit.  So what if my students seemed more interested in the food than its cultural origins. I wondered if they’d still have signed up if I’d shortened the name of the class from Lunch Around the World to just plain Lunch.  My class had been growing all session, and not a single person had asked for a refund. In this economy, everybody was cutting everything, and even community center classes weren’t immune. The best way to stay off the chopping block was to keep your classes full and your students happy.

I reached over and picked up the final fortune cookie, then looked at my watch. “Oops,” I said. “Looks like we’re out of time.” I stood and smiled at the group. “Okay, everybody, that’s it for today.” I nodded at the takeout cartons I’d talked the guy at the Imperial Dragon into donating to the cause. “Don’t forget your cookies, and remember, next week we’ll be lunching in Mexico.” I took care to pronounce it Mehico.

“Tacos?” T-shirt Tom asked.

“You’ll have to wait and see-eee,” I said, mostly because I hadn’t begun to think about next week. Surviving this one was enough of a challenge.

“Not even a hint?” a woman named Donna said.

I shook my head and smiled some more.

They took their time saying thanks and see you next week, as they grabbed their takeout boxes by the metal handles and headed out the door. A few even offered to help me pack up, but I said I was all set. It was faster to do it myself.

As I gave the counters a final scrub, I reviewed today’s class in my head. Overall, I thought it had gone well, but I still didn’t understand why the Janis Joplin reference had fallen flat.

I put the sponge down, picked up a wooden spoon, and got ready to belt out “Piece of My Heart.”

When I opened my mouth, a chill danced the full length of my spine. I looked up. A man was standing just outside the doorway. He had dark, wavy hair cascading almost to his shoulders and pale, freckled skin. He was tall and a little too thin. His long fingers gripped the doorframe, as if a strong wind might blow him back down the hallway.

He was wearing faded jeans and the deep green embroidered Guatemalan shirt I’d given my husband just before he abandoned us seven years ago.

No. Way.

BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS

1.    Jill Murray’s entire life revolves around her daughter Anastasia. Do you think she has any regrets about the life/career she might have missed?

2.    Just when Jill is finally figuring out how to make it on her own, her ex-husband shows up again. Do you think Jill had a choice about whether or not to let him back into her life?

3.    Reinvention is clearly a theme in all seven of Claire Cook’s novels. How does Jill reinvent herself during the course of the novel? What triggers these changes?

4.    There’s a theory that every seven years you become a completely different person. Do you think that’s true? When are you due for your next seven year switch? How will you change?

5.    Joni is not just Jill’s boss, but her mentor and friend. Has there ever been a Joni in your own life? Have you ever taken on Joni’s role?

6.    Even though Cynthia drives Jill crazy, Jill also admits she kind of wants to be her and even thinks she’d do a better job of it. Is there a Cynthia in your neighborhood? Do you feel that same ambivalence about her?

7.    How are Seth and Billy alike? Different? How much of Jill’s growth has to do with whether or not she ends up with either of them, or with any guy at all?

8.    Jill’s life didn’t turn out quite the way she planned. Do you feel that way about your own life? Do you think almost everyone does to some degree?

9.    In many ways, Jill is stuck. Do you think she projects her fears about moving forward in her own life onto her 10-year-old daughter Anastasia? Do you think some of this is the result of being a single mom, or do all mothers do this?

10. How important is it for Jill to go on a girlfriend getaway of her own? How important is it for you? Okay, so where are you going and when?

11. The Passport to Your Next Chapter at the end of the book shifts the focus from the fictional world of the novel to the reader’s own life. Which of these seven simple steps inspired you? Surprised you?

12. Book clubs often serve book-related food and/or drinks when they meet to discuss Claire Cook’s novels. What is your book club planning to serve when you meet to discuss SEVEN YEAR SWITCH? Fortune cookies? Huli Huli chicken? Mojitos? Email Claire at ClaireATClaireCook.com and let her know. Did a question come up in your discussion that might help another book club? Did you remember to take a photo of your book club’s meeting? If so, email those to Claire, too, so she can post!

Good luck to everyone!  The winner will be announced on July 26!

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Seven Year Switch 2Claire giveaway

Claire Cook, author of the just released women’s fiction novel, Seven Year Switch, is offering a super giveaway for those lucky readers who are willing to post a review at Amazon, Goodreads, Facebook or Barnes & Noble! Here are her details:

Because I know it’s the power of my incredible readers spreading the word to your friends and family that will make this book take off, we’re going to have another giveaway!

All you have to do is read SEVEN YEAR SWITCH and post a nice review on Amazon (buy locally, review globally is my motto!) Goodreads or Facebook or Barnes & Noble or even your own blog, and email the link to the review to Claire @ ClaireCook.com. (Just make sure you put REVIEW in the subject line so I don’t think it’s spam.)

You can post the same review on as many sites as you want – in fact I hope you will! – and each one counts as another entry! The prize is pictured above: a beach bag filled with a complete autographed set of all seven of my novels – and a beach towel, of course!

If you already own signed copies of all my books, you can donate the whole thing to a fundraiser for your favorite charity or use them as birthday presents.

Thank you — your support is what has made this midlife career of mine possible, and I appreciate it so very much.

– Claire Cook

Visit Claire Cook’s website at www.clairecook.com.

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