Even Now (Lost Love Series #1)

From Publishers Weekly The latest offering from Christian publishing phenom Kingsbury spills over with her trademark sentimentality and easy prose, but is marred by melodramatic implausibilities. In the prologue, Emily Anderson, a beautiful, brilliant, athletic college freshman is pining for her lost parents, at which point the novel flashes back to how they got lost. While Kingsbury strives to make their disappearance believable, it never quite adds up. In particular, readers are led to believe that Emily's famous fighter pilot father had been inaccessible to her because she was spelling his name wrong when doing internet searches. Still, the story is less of a stretch than Kingsbury's mistaken identity novel, One Tuesday Morning, and this one is also more complex and nuanced: it deals with teenage pregnancy, Iraq and Afghanistan. Kingsbury indicates in her author's note she believes she has represented the debate fairly, and there's no doubt her treatment of the topic is gentler than most, but she conflates Christianity with conservatism and support for the war. Her one antiwar character is a liberal non-Christian who, despite being a seasoned war correspondent, appears never to have thought very deeply about her beliefs. As is the case with Kingsbury's other books, any shortcomings are unlikely to faze her ardent fan base.Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. Sometimes hope for the future is found in the ashes of yesterday. Shane Galanter—a man ready to put down roots after years of searching. But is he making the right choice? Or is there a woman somewhere who even now remembers—as does he—those longago days . . . and a love that hasn’t faded with time? Lauren Gibbs—a successful international war correspondent who gave up on happily-ever-after years ago—when it was ripped away from her. Since then, she’s never looked back. So how come she can’t put to rest the one question that haunts her: Why is life so empty? Emily Anderson—a college freshman raised by her grandparents who’s about to take her first internship as a journalist. But before she can move ahead, she discovers a love story whose tragic ending came with her birth. As a result, she is drawn to look back and search out the mother she’s never met. A young woman seeking answers to her heart’s deep questions. A man and woman separated by lies and long years, who have never forgotten each other. With hallmark tenderness and power, Karen Kingsbury weaves a tapestry of lives, losses, love, and faith—and the miracle of resurrection. Also available in unabridged audio CD. Karen Kingsbury is currently America’s best-selling inspirational author. She has written more than 30 of her Life-Changing Fiction titles and has nearly 5 million books in print. Dubbed by Time magazine as the Queen of Christian Fiction, Karen receives hundreds of letters each week and considers her readers as friends. Her fiction has made her one of the country’s favorite storytellers, and one of her novels - Gideon’s Gift - is under production for an upcoming major motion picture release. Her emotionally gripping titles include the popular Redemption series, the Firstborn series, Divine, One Tuesday Morning, Beyond Tuesday Morning, Oceans Apart, and A Thousand Tomorrows. Karen and her husband, Don, live in the Pacific Northwest and are parents to one girl and five boys, including three adopted from Haiti. You can find out more about Karen, her books, and her appearance schedule at www.KarenKingsbury.com. Karen Kingsbury es autora de mas de treinta títulos, incluyendo algunos EXITOS de venta, uno de los cuales se uso para la película de la semana de CBS. Es una de las atoras favoritas de novelas inspiradoras.Se han impreso mas de dos millones de ejemplares de sus libros. Kingsbury reside en el estado de Washington con Don, su esposo, y sus seis hijos, tres de los cuales los adotatron en Haití. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Even Now Copyright © 2005 by Karen Kingsbury This title is also available as a Zondervan ebook product. Visit www.zondervan.com/ebooks for more information. This title is also available as a Zondervan audio product. Visit www.zondervan.com/audiopages for more information. Requests for information should be addressed to: Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Kingsbury, Karen. Even now / Karen Kingsbury. p. cm. ISBN-10: 0-310-24753-5 ISBN-13: 978-0-310-24753-1 1. Birthmothers — Fiction. 2. Mothers and daughters — Fiction. I. Title. PS3561.I4873E94 2005 813’.54 — dc22 2005019588 All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible: New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. The website addresses recommended throughout this book are offered as a resource to you. These websites are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement on the part of Zondervan, nor do we vouch for their content for the life of this book. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other — except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher. Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 5375 Roundup Drive, Colorado Springs, Colorado 80910 Interior design by Michelle Espinoza Printed in the United States of America 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 • 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Even Now x83 13 Prologue Christmas 2006 It was time. Emily Anderson had waited all her life for this moment. The box on the floor in front of her held the hope of a lifetime . . . her lifetime. Inside could be a window, a glimpse, a pathway to the past, to a time still littered with question marks. But what if it wasn’t? What if it was nothing? For a moment Emily could only sit, stone still, and stare at it. Doubts gathered around her like summer storm clouds. This was her last chance. If the box held only high school mementoes, framed photographs, and old stuffed animals, then she’d know she’d reached her final dead end. And barring a miracle, her search for her parents would be over. She laid her hands on the dusty cardboard top and traced her fingers across the words. Lauren’s Things. The box would be nearly nineteen years old now. A lump stuck in her throat and she swallowed, forcing it down. “Mom . . .” she stared at her mother’s name. “Did you leave me a trail?” She closed her eyes and hugged the box. “Please, God, let there be something here.” Downstairs her grandparents were fixing dinner. They’d given her this time. Her tender old papa had found the worn box in the garage stashed away in a cobwebbed corner with a dozen other forgotten cartons. He had known how much it would mean to her, how long she’d been waiting for a breakthrough like this. “Emily, honey,” he’d told her when she came home from college that day. “This belonged to your mother.” He held the box in his hands. As tall as she was, she still felt tiny next to him. He had to look around the brown edges of the box to see her. “I’ll take it to your room. You’ll need some time.” Indeed. She opened her eyes and stared at the box, hard and long, drilling imaginary holes through the flimsy cardboard. As if maybe she could see inside before she tore into it and found out for sure. Panic tap-danced around her, and she grabbed two quick breaths. What if she went through the whole thing and found no clues at all? Two more breaths. Come on, Emily. Exhale. She tightened her middle, pursed her lips, and blew out. God, get me through this. There has to be something. How many times had she prayed for a clue or a sign? A trail that would lead her to her parents, even for a day? Then she could ask them why they’d left and how come they never cared to find out what happened to their little girl? Emotion flooded her, tightening her throat, closing her eyes. Memories rushed back like forgotten classmates — hateful ones, who used to laugh when you weren’t picked at recess. Suddenly she was in kindergarten again, at the Mother’s Day luncheon. She and the other boys and girls had made place mats with bright green handprints and pretty painted flowers coming from the top of every finger. They sang a song, and Emily could hear their young, off-key voices booming out, “Thanks for all you do . . . Mommy, I love you!” As with everything around Mother’s Day, Emily directed the words to her grandma. Even back then, she’d known. She was the only kindergartner without a mother. The only one whose mommy left when she was just a few weeks old. Now she watched her kindergarten self as the memory of what happened next played back, every painful detail intact . . . “Grandma,” she asked, “where is my mommy? Do you know?” Her grandmother got sort of nervous. “No, sweetie. Papa and I tried to find her but, well, we haven’t had any luck.” Emily had felt suddenly lost. Like the day she was at the park and couldn’t find her papa. Then an idea came to her. She smoothed her fancy dress and swung her legs, setting her patentleather shoes in motion. “Maybe I could find her!” “Honey.” Her grandma patted her hair. “I don’t think she wants to be found.” And that was that. Emily drew a shuddering breath, relieved that the memory was over. But on its heels came another. The time she was thirteen and all of eighth grade was getting “the talk.” “I feel funny talking about girl stuff in school,” she told one of her friends at lunch that day. “Seems like it should be private.” “So talk to your mom.” The friend smiled. “Moms are great for that.” The emptiness and loss were so terrible, Emily felt like an actual hole in her heart, a hole so thorough she bet her friend could see straight through her. That afternoon, Emily went home and made a promise. Someday, I’m going to find my parents. No matter what. Emily brushed a hand across her face, as though she could free her mind from the haunting thoughts. She opened her eyes and stared at the box. Eventually her grandparents got Internet access. After that there were days of typing in her mother’s name — L-a-u-r-e-n A-n-d-e-r-s-o-n — and searching through lists of schoolteachers and scientists and track stars, but never — not in all the thousand entries that popped up, making her breathless with possibility — did she find her mother. Same with her dad. She’d spent hopeless afternoons looking for him any way she could imagine. Read more