He was built like a mountain. Tall, dark haired ,silver eyed , muscular and rugged. Nathaniel Hawkins was a man that most men wouldn’t want to tangle with and most women fantasized about.

That day wasn't the first time I had attempted suicide. Simply disappearing into the distant nothingness where there was no pain and no more feelings - back then I thought it an act of empowerment. Otherwise I had very little power to make any decisions about my life, my body, my actions. Taking my own life seemed my last trump card.

This just didn’t happen to girls like me. This just didn’t happen to anyone.

She doesn’t even have shoes on” He was trying to reconcile something in his head while talking to Luke. “In all the time you spent in that shack, you forgot to pack her shoes?” Luke asked rhetorically, shaking his head in both wonder and disappointment. “Look, we’re in the boonies. I am sure shoes are optional, as are a full set of teeth.

No! Please no," she feels the cool metalof the handcuffs again. "Please, I'mMadison, I'm Madison!"Her arms lock into place above her head.She jerks her body, pain snapping at hermuscles."You can stay like this for the day." Herises from the bed, bends down, andblows out the candles on her birthdaycake. "Night, night, Rosie.""No!"He opens the door, letting a stream ofsunlight into the room."Please don't leave me here, please!"And then the door closes, and thesunlight is gone.

CRUEL HARVEST by Fran Elizabeth Grubb is a compelling, riveting, unforgetable memoir that will keep you turning the pages. Published by Thomas Nelson and due for release August 2012. Kidnapped from an orphanage Frances is dragged across the country working in the fields. Youtubefrangrubb to see video book trailer.

A good book is a good place to go..... to dream!

... Other students lived on campus and got drunk at parties. Other students dated and graduated and got married and led normal lives. She wanted to marry an ex-con and pretend being kidnapped had been a normal thing she could forget about. ...

Every time i see a butterfly, it reminds me of how precious life can truly be. To be able to turn from a caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly and fly away so freely and gracefully wherever she may please, without no one in the world to tell her what to do. I wait for that special moment in time when I get to live freely, without no worries, pain or tears. I just want to be happy. I want the laughter in the air without all of the pain. One special day I’ll get to live my life just like that beautiful butterfly. I will no longer feel blue inside.

I wonder if my kidnappers know who my father was in Haiti, or if they know what powers they are dealing with.

My fingers try to grab onto the net. I’m pulled away too quickly, dragged through the snow. Everything is white and flying and painful.“Nick!”I claw at the snow, trying to slow down. There’s nothing to hold on to. I kick and kick. The hands clutch my ankles. Flipping my torso over I get one quick glance of their backs. They’re wearing parkas and hats and look normal, like people, but faster. I smash onto my face again and lift up my head just in time to see Nick snarling inside the net. He’s transformed again.“Nick!” I yell, but snow pours into my mouth. Sharp cold pain smashes through my teeth and into my skull. I cough and try again. “Nick!”He raises himself up onto four legs and howls, a long, searing cry of anguish and rage.My heart breaks for him, caught there. I have to help him escape. I have to get free.I kick again. “Let me go.”Pain shoots through my head. Fireworks. Explosions. All inside my brain. The white world goes dark and I know what’s about to happen. I’m the one leaving. I am the one gone.

What gave it away? When she loaded me bound and gagged into the back of her truck? Or when she actually said. "I'm ready to kill you and throw your body inn the swamp?"Hey for a while there, it looked like you were going to talk your way out of it. I didn't want to interfere.

Cruel Harvest by Fran Elizabeth Grubb is a memoir that will touch your heart.

In recent months, the emotional aspect has become as necessary to me as the physical. It amuses me, this strange quirk of mine. I want my little captive to love me, to care about me. I want to be more than just the monster of her nightmares.