Warning: While this review contains no spoilers for Second Chance Pass, I may inadvertently spill secrets from the earlier books. Trust me - if you haven't read the beginning of the series, do it. If you've already indulged, read on ...

The story opens with a discouraged Paul Haggerty drinking away his sorrows in an Oregon bar. Although he's still head over heels for Vanni Rutledge, he can't bring himself to tell her. That would mean betraying the memory of her deceased husband, Paul's best friend, Matt. No matter how passionately he loves her - has always loved her - Paul can't burden her with his guilty love. He stayed by Vanni's side through Matt's funeral, through her grief, through the birth of their child; now, it's time to head home and get on with his life. The only problem is he can't let go, and that leads to a one-night stand that gets him into even bigger trouble. Tortured by his poor decisions, Paul distances himself from the only person who can really bring him comfort. Meanwhile, Vanni can't understand Paul's reticence. Sure, she's still grieving her husband - she'll always miss him - but she's ready to move on. With Paul. Only, he's hiding in Grants Pass, ignoring her. Can't he see how she feels about him? And why is he being so cryptic about his life in Oregon? Is she better off with the handsome pediatrician who's all too available? Down at the bar, startling news from Ricky has Jack and Mel in a tailspin. Mel's second pregnancy has been tougher on her than the last - Jack's worried, with good reason, it turns out. Then there's Tom, who's relationship with Brenda's getting so hot everyone can feel the heat. What will happen to Brenda's tender heart when he ships off to boot camp? Speaking of heat, wildfires are burning up the hills, edging ever closer to the forests of Virgin River. A blaze could mean scarred trees, destroyed home and total evacuation of the little town.

My biggest complaint about Robyn Carr's books - and, really, it isn't much of a complaint - is that they're predictable. With Carr, happy endings always prevail. But you know what? It doesn't bother me. What I love about Carr is her ability to create the kind of warm, cozy towns everyone wants to live in, and the kind of good, loyal people everyone wishes they had as friends. Even though I know how the stories will end, I still want to read them. That says a lot about an author. Having said that, I need to say this - Carr really puts her characters through the ringer in this book. More than ever before, they have to fight for their happy ending. This makes Second Chance Pass the most exciting in the series so far. Virgin River, the first novel, will always be my favorite (since that's when I fell in love with sexy Jack *sigh*), but this one runs a close second. I couldn't put it down.

Grade: A

The first question people ask upon glancing at my newborn daughter is, "What's her ethnicity?" Her brown skin and curly black hair pretty much serve as a billboard, announcing loud and clear that she is not my biological child. The fact that she's bi-racial (her birthmother is white; her birthfather is black) doesn't matter a lick to me, but I realize it may become a challenge for her as she grows up in a white family living in a predominantly white community. My concern led me to Amazon, where I searched for books to give me some instruction. I found surprisingly few. However, In Their Own Voices: Transracial Adoptees Tell Their Stories by Rita J. Simon and Rhonda M. Roorda looked to be exactly the kind of book I wanted. So I ordered it, waiting anxiously for it to arrive on my doorstep. As soon as I read the Introduction, I realized the book was not going to give me what I craved. What I really wanted was reassurance that: (1) As a white woman, I can effectively raise a bi-racial child; (2) Said child will be confident, responsible and whole, unaffected by her birth and subsequent adoption, and (3) Because of the bonds we create, she will never long for her biological family, or prefer it over ours. A few pages in, I discovered that In Their Own Voices is hardly the feel-good, reassuring type book I thought it would be. Instead, it's unflinchingly honest, sometimes frightening, but always fascinating. Like one reviewer said, "It should be required reading for anyone who is thinking of adopting or has adopted a child from another race."

The book consists of interviews with 24 black and bi-racial adults who were adopted as children by white families. Author Rhonda M. Roordan, herself a transracial adoptee (TRA), conducted all the interviews but one - Roordan answered questions asked by co-author Rita J. Simon. Prompted by the authors' questions, the interviewees discussed their experience as black children growing up in a white family; their relationships with both the black and white communities; their views on transracial adoption; whether they consider themselves black or white, and so on. The interviews are presented in Q & A format, which allows readers to hear the people speak "in their own voices." It feels like an intimate roundtable discussion, a candid, no-holds-barred conversation with those who have been there.

Another thing that surprised me (I know you all are laughing at my naivete) was that there are people out there who vehemently oppose transracial adoption. In my mind, it's better for a child to be placed with a loving family of another race than for him/her to bounce around from foster home to foster home, waiting for an adoptive family of their own race. Even if the child feels out of place in his/her adoptive family, at least he/she is in a loving environment. So, it shocked me to read these statements from William T. Merritt, a spokesman for the National Association of Black Social Workers:

"We view the placement of Black children in White homes as a hostile act against our community. It is a blatant form of race and cultural genocide."

To be fair, Merritt made the first statement in 1971, and the second in 1985, when debates about race were perhaps more heated. It is also unclear if he considers bi-racial kids "Black children." When I first read these words, I was appalled, especially after reading interview after interview stating that few black couples are available to adopt. After pondering the idea that "white families - no matter how liberal or well-intended - cannot teach a black child how to survive in an essentially racist society" (9), I find myself at least understanding the NABSW's position. I still believe that love conquers all, but I can definitely see where the group is coming from. (For more information on the NABSW and their work to find suitable African American homes for children in need, please visit their website.)

The authors of In Their Own Voices do not take a stand on the issue of transracial adoption, or white parents raising black children; rather, they allow the reader to draw his/her own conclusions based on what he/she has read. What I took from the book is this: White families can successfully raise black children, but they should make a conscientious effort to expose their children to the black community. If they are not committed to helping their children find their identity - racial and otherwise - then they should not adopt transracially.

I'll be honest, certain aspects of this book scared me to death, but other parts actually did give me some of the reassurance I needed. Most of all, In Their Own Voices opened my eyes to issues to which I had not given enough thought. It's truly a fascinating, eye-opening look into transracial adoption. That being said, I also have to point out that this book was published in 2000, with most of the TRAs being adopted in the early 1970s. Also, most of the respondents were raised in the Midwest or on the East Coast. I'm curious how the experiences of TRAs adopted in the 90s would compare with their counterparts from the 70s. I also wonder how the lives of TRAs raised in the South or on the West Coast compare to those on the opposite sides of the country. I wish the authors had addressed both of these questions. Lastly, I should clarify something that the authors don't - all of the transracial adoptees with whom they spoke were either black or a black/white mix. So, if you are looking for a book that specifically addresses children of Asian or Eastern European or American Indian or Indian descent, this is not it. Of course, much of the information would apply, I'm just saying I think the cover should have noted that the authors were discussing black/white adoptions. All in all, though, In Their Own Voices is a fabulous resource for white parents and their children. I highly recommend it, as well as its companion volume, In Their Parents' Voices, which is sure to be just as enlightening as this one.