When Demi's private life becomes public news, hope seems far out of reach Christian college professor Demitria Costanas had vowed to end her affair with a colleague. But she gives into temptation one last time . . . and a lurking photographer captures her weakness for all to see. Quite literally, she's the woman caught in adultery. And almost everyone--herself included--has a stone to throw. Enter Sullivan Crisp, a decidedly unorthodox psychologist with his own baggage. He's well-known for his quirky sense of humor and incorporation of "game show" theology into his counseling sessions. And yet there's something more he offers: hope for a fresh start. Reluctantly the two of them begin an uplifting, uneven journey filled with healing and grace. By turns funny and touching, this story explores the ways humans hurt each other and deceive themselves. And it shows the endlessly creative means God uses to turn stones of accusation and shame into works of beauty that lead us onto the path of healing. A candid yet tender series about pain, healing, and God's invitation for second chances. "A story of refining one’s faith in a world of sin and temptation. It just might change your life. It has certainly changed mine." -- Angela Hunt, author of Daughter of Cana Inspirational contemporary read - The first book in the Sullivan Crisp series, but can be enjoyed as a standalone Book one: Healing Stones - Book two: Healing Waters - Book three: Healing Sands - Includes discussion questions for reading groups Nancy Rue has written over 100 books for girls, is the editor of the Faithgirlz Bible, and is a popular speaker and radio guest with her expertise in tween and teen issues. She and husband, Jim, have raised a daughter of their own and now live in Tennessee. Stephen Arterburn is a New York Times bestselling author with more than eight million books in print. He most recently toured with Women of Faith, which he founded in 1995. Arterburn founded New Life Treatment Centers as a company providing Christian counseling and treatment in secular psychiatric hospitals. He also began “New Life Ministries”, producing the number-one Christian counseling radio talk show, New Life Live , with an audience of more than three million. He and his wife Misty live near Indianapolis. HEALING STONES By Nancy Rue Stephen Arterburn Thomas Nelson Copyright © 2007 Nancy Rue and Stephen Arterburn All right reserved. ISBN: 978-0-8499-1890-2 Chapter One I sneaked down to the boat that night to say this couldn't happen anymore. Mind you, I didn't want to. Ripping a man's heart out wasn't up there with things I relished. I don't know what I thought would come of things in the end, but I never envisioned this. "This" fell into the "have to" column. When you've made a mess so major you can't hope anymore that somehow things will turn out all right on their own, you have to fix them. I made my usual way through the shadows, glancing back out of habit to be sure no one saw me. No one frequented the Port Orchard Yacht Club on late February evenings, and even I wouldn't have to anymore after tonight. I sucked in damp Washington air and breathed out my urge to run from the pain. Then I slid my hand into the pocket of my P-coat, felt the key card waiting in its satin hiding place, and curled in on myself, plastic card digging into my palm. Would everything that reminded me of Zach torture me from now on? This was just the key to the ramp. What was going to happen when I saw his face? I managed to get the gate unlocked and then closed it behind me, clanging like a prison door. Yes, I waxed dramatic, but everything inside seemed to hold a piece of him. Zach always had a field day with the curled-up ad on the bulletin board asking for a stud for a Yorkshire terrier. Every time I picked my way in the dark down the puzzle grating on the gangplank, I anticipated his arms around me. I started down narrow Dock C, the open-ceilinged hallway lined with cheerful doors that led to covered, inside boat slips, and I could hear Zach chuckling over the limp Valentine's Day wreath that hung over a faux porthole, reds and pinks oozing damply into each other. I belonged on this slender path to Zach's door. It always seemed to close behind me-holding me in that one safe place. How, then, would I get out after I'd said what I came to say? My, my, Demitria. You sure know how to arrange things. My hand was barely on the knob when the door to his slip came open and Zach filled the doorway, and me. "Hey, Prof," he said. Standing there with him so close I ached, I fought to remember how I'd steeled myself for this. I was doing it for Rich and our kids-because it was the right thing-because I couldn't do the wrong thing anymore. Zach stood silhouetted with the boat rocking behind him until he pulled me through the doorway onto the enclosed dock-and into the intoxicating musky smell of his neck. Then he was too real. "Okay, what'