Fay Lamb works as an acquisition/copyeditor for Pelican Book Group (White Rose Publishing and Harbourlight Books), offer her services as a freelance editor, and is an author of Christian romance and romantic suspense. Her emotionally charged stories remind the reader that God is always in the details. Because of Me, her debut romantic suspense novel is soon to be released by Treble Heart Books /Mountainview Publishing.
Fay has a passion for working with and encouraging fellow writers. As a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), she co-moderates the large Scribes’ Critique Group and manages the smaller Scribes’ critique groups. For her efforts, she was the recipient of the ACFW Members Service Award in 2010.
In 2012, Fay was also elected to serve as secretary on ACFW’s Operating Board.
Fay and her husband, Marc, reside in Titusville, Florida, where multi-generations of their families have lived. The legacy continues with their two married sons and five grandchildren.
Because of Me:
Not your typical Christian Fiction
Michael's fiancée, Issie Putman, was brutally attacked and Michael was imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit. Now he's home to set things right.
Two people stand in his way: Issie's son, Cole, and a madman.
Can Michael learn to love the child Issie holds so close to her heart and protect him from the man who took everything from Michael so long ago?
Issie waited a minute, but Cole didn’t join her. She walked to the dugout, her tennis shoes scuffing the soft sand. Cole looked up. Tears stained his dirty little face.
Before she could get to him, Kevin pulled her outside the concrete block enclosure. “What kind of lies have you been feeding your kid, Issie?” he asked between clenched teeth.
“What?” She blinked.
“After his home run, he whispered to some of the boys that his dad was here at the game. What kind of crap is that? His dad’s still behind bars.”
Issie heaved a deep breath and chose to ignore her brother-in-law. As usual, he hadn’t told the whole truth. She suspected from the news reports Tom Jervis might see freedom soon.
“After he told his little lie, Derek James taunted him, said he’d heard Cole’s daddy was in prison,” Kevin continued.
“Cole doesn’t lie.” Issie strode toward her son. Kevin was supposed to help protect him from this. Why hadn’t he shielded her son from some of that James’ family malice?
She clutched the chain-link front of the dugout, using it to keep herself upright until she reached Cole.
What had caused her son to say such a thing? Where had he gotten the idea?
Eric scooted over so Issie could sit beside her son.
“Do you want to talk about this?” she asked.
Cole shook his head and fixed his gaze toward right field.
How did God make a mother able to feel her child’s pain?
Cole’s chin trembled. He looked up at her, his gray eyes penetrating her soul. “I saw him, Mommy. I really did. He was watching you when you were screaming for me. He smiled at you.” Cole swung his feet back and forth, the soles of his shoes rasping across the sand. He looked down at them. A tear slithered from the corner of his eyes and dropped, staining his uniform. “No one believes me, but my daddy was here. I saw him.”
She’d never told him anything about the man who fathered him. “Cole, honey, how do you know it was him?”
“Granny Rhonda’s Michael. Like in the pictures Granny Rhonda had, the man with you in the picture in ‘Tilda’s living room, but today he had a beard and his hair was longer.” Cole looked at her, tears streaking through the dust of red clay that settled on his face.
Why hadn’t she seen this coming? She’d never imagined the track upon which his train of thought pulled his overactive imagination. Why hadn’t she told him the truth? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
He’d never said anything to her about the prom picture sitting on Matilda’s mantel, and she’d never known Michael’s mother, Rhonda, had shared other pictures. Cole had been so young then. How could he remember? His question after her nightmare took on a new light. Mother and son both held a desire so deep, and their yearnings centered on a man who’d left Issie years ago.
She bit her lower lip. How could you tell a little boy he had no hope of ever having a father in his life? She took a ragged breath and released it. “Honey, the man you saw probably reminded you of Michael because we talked about him the other night. I believe you saw someone that looked like him, but I don’t think it was Granny Rhonda’s Michael.”