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Once upon a time, I was a rebel. And I have the tattoo to prove it.

Then there was the spiked hairthe shade of which changed monthlycolorful language that cant be found in your everyday sixteen-count crayon box, a pack-a-day habit, less-than-modest wardrobe, and an obsession with guitar-trashing, drum-bashing music.

Did I mention Im also a preachers kid? Thats right. And like the prodigal son after whom I modeled myself, I finally saw the error of my ways and returned to the fold.

Today my life is all about lead me not into temptation. When Im not serving as Womens Ministry Director at my fathers church, Im working at Glorias Morning Caf. I even have worthy goals, like saving enough money to buy the caf, keep my Jelly Belly habit under control, and to never again hurt the people I love. No more parties. No more unsavory activities. And no more motorcycles! Youd think I was finally on the right track.

But since my dads replacement hired a hotshot church consultant to revive our dying church, things arent working out as planned. And now this consultant says Im in need of a little reviving myself. Just who does this Maddox McCray think he is anyway? With his curly hair that could use a good clipping, tattoo that he makes no attempt to hide, and black leather pants, the man is downright dangerous. In fact, all thats missing is a motorcycle. Or so I thought But if he thinks hes going to take me for a ride on that 1298cc machine of his, he can think again. Harriet Bisset is a reformed woman, and shes going to stay that way. Even if it kills me!