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This is the fourth installment of my Christmas short story, The Christmas Sweater. Look for it through October and November on my blog. Enjoy!

 

Chapter One—Scene Four

Next day I woke with a headache. Must have been a change in barometric pressure or something. When I turned on the radio, Christmas carols assaulted me on every station. December first. ’Tis the season. I snapped it off and tried the TV just for white noise.Jeopardydidn’t necessarily air December reruns in December, but even the ads were all about Christmas, all the gifts you could/should buy for everyone from Great-aunt Hilda to the mail carrier.

Last year I’d loved it all, the music, the lights, the decorations, the shopping. I had begged Sam to put up the tree as soon as December rolled around.

I sank into my recliner, pulled the butter-yellow crocheted throw over me and leaned my head back. How could I be exhausted when I’d slept fairly well and only been up for an hour?

A couple of times I perked up, thinking I heard Debbie at the door, then remembered she and Mickey were in Regina and the noise was probably just the wind. She’d reminded me to go for a walk every day, but the outside world looked so gray and cold, I elected to stay put under my warm blanket.

I watched the flicker of movement on the TV screen without seeing it, lost in thoughts of yesterdays. Ever since Debbie came back, she’d dominated my mornings with tea, visits, interruptions, and walks. I’d been upset about having my well-planned schedule interrupted, yet the first day she was gone, I couldn’t get myself moving.

I woke an hour later, angry with myself for sleeping in the morning like an old woman. Maybe I was old, like yesterday’s newspaper. A sliver of sunshine had forced its way through the layers of cloud, making my frosted windows sparkle, and it seemed the wind had calmed. Without allowing myself time to think, I pulled on my winter garb, including the lime green toque, some thick mittens and my hiking boots, and forced myself out the door.

I felt like the Abominable Snow-woman, all muffled like that, but I was warm. I walked east then south toward the new school, passing homes in the process of being built. For a few minutes the sun shone on my face and I could almost hear Debbie’s joyful comments. I actually caught myself looking around for Snuffy. Silly dog.

Then the clouds huddled together and pulled a slate gray sheet over the sky again, and the wind picked up. Like my life. Gray. Cold. Empty. Ugly. Pointless. In spite of my flagging spirits, I forced myself to go the usual distance. Back home, I warmed up with hot chocolate and settled on the couch to read.

The phone rang about noon. My heart jumped with anticipation when I recognized the number on the call display. Emily! I mentally counted the weeks since my only child had called. I didn’t like to push, but was anxious to know when she’d be home for Christmas and how long she’d be able to stay.

“Em! How are you? I’ve missed you.”

“You too, Mom. How’s the weather in Winterland?”

I chuckled. “Wintry. How about you?”

“Rainy but warm and green. I love Vancouver.”

We talked of little things, I told her all about Debbie and her intrusive kindness. She skipped a beat and so did my heart. “What’s up, Emily?” I’d always been able to read between her words, even if I couldn’t see her face.

I heard a long-distance sigh and knew. She wouldn’t be coming home for Christmas. I felt like I was slowly slipping down a dark chute.

“Mom.” She had a way of saying it that sounded like a command. “You know I miss you and I know it’s only a year since Dad—you know—but, umm…”

“Just tell me, Em. You’re not coming. Something better came up.” As a mother, I should have been kinder, but the thought of being alone over Christmas bothered me more than I’d thought it would.

“Mom,” she repeated. “Just listen, okay?”

Did I have a choice?

“So, a friend of mine found a Groupondeal for a trip to Paris and you know how I’ve always wanted to go, and we’d see the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe, and we could wander along the Champs-Elysees. All in the beauty of Christmas, and well, I haven’t decided yet, said I needed to talk it over with you, but I have to let her know by Monday. What do you think?”

What could I say? You go ahead and have a good time in Paris while I die of loneliness here at home? I had to say something, it was just difficult to make my voice work. I cleared my throat and said, “Sounds like an offer too good to pass up, Em. Go ahead and have a good time. I’m sure I’ll survive here.”

Again there was a strange silence before Emily filled it. “I guess I haven’t been clear. I’m asking if you’ll come with me. I want us to experience Paris at Christmas. Together. How about it?”

I couldn’t even breathe, I was so surprised. “Me? To Paris? I’ve never traveled. Your dad and I never got farther than Maui the year you graduated. Paris! Paris?” What a ridiculous idea. Didn’t she realize the implications?

“Emily, it’s sweet of you to think of me, but I can’t go. I’m just not ready.” I paused to gather my emotions. “It will be the first anniversary of your father’s death. How could I possibly go now?”

I could envision the scowl on Emily’s face. “And how do you plan to “celebrate” Dad’s death? Sit in the dark and cry?” Even as my heart withered at her words, I heard her long-distance sigh. “Mom. Think about it. Dad would want you to go.”

“How do you know what Dad would want me to do?”

“It’s a guess, and a pretty good one, I think. Now are you coming or not?”

I took a deep breath. “No, Honey, I can’t. I’m sorry. But you go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“I won’t go without you. I can’t leave you home alone over Christmas.”

“Why not? I’ve been alone for almost a year and I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine, Mom. You sound mad. Angry.”

Why did everyone think I was angry? They could all just leave me alone in my misery. “Emily, I’m telling you to go. Understood?”

Another sigh told me she was weakening. “Would you at least think about it until Monday? I’ll wait to give Carly my final answer until then.”

“I won’t change my mind, but thank you for thinking of me. I love you, Emily.”

“You too, Mom. Talk to you Monday.”

She sounded hopeful and I didn’t want to squelch her hopes, but really! What did she expect of me? I grabbed my book and sank back into the recliner, but I couldn’t read. It was all right. I was all right. I would cope, just as I had when Sam up and died on me. I pushed out of the chair and shuffled to the window. The emptiness of my life stared at me from my faint reflection in the glass, like the fading light of day outside. I fixed a small bowl of Greek yogurt with almond butter and raisins, had a cup of tea, and went to bed very early, hoping for blessed sleep to rescue me from my brokenness.

 

**Meet me here again next Thursday, November 8th, for the fifth scene of The Christmas Sweater.

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This is the third installment of my short story, The Christmas Sweater. Look for it every Thursday through October and November. Enjoy!

 

Chapter One—Scene Three

“We need to walk,” said Debbie Friday morning when she’d let herself into my house.

“Walk? Where to?”

“Just walk,” she said. “Doc says to keep the heart and lungs healthy we should walk every day. So how about it?” She was bouncing on the balls of her booted feet.

“Now?”

She shrugged. “Why not now? You have to vacuum first or what?”

I chose to ignore her ill-concealed sarcasm. “What about Mickey? Wouldn’t he like to go with you?”

“Can’t. He’s working.”

“Where?”

“Got hired on at the cop shop part time, just to help out over Christmas.

“He’s a cop?”

“Sheriff, actually, but he retired last year. Anyway, love, you’re my next choice and I’m getting too warm waiting.”

I stared out the window at the falling snow and shivered. “Looks cold out there.”

“Nah! It’s gorgeous. C’mom, grab a jacket and some mitts. I’m going to get my hat and scarf. Meet you outside in five. Steena’s gonna love it!”

Oh joy. We were going to take the dog too. I sighed. With no acceptable excuse, I donned my quilted jacket over Sam’s shirt, pulled on my heeled winter boots and a scarf and my driving gloves. I stepped outside into a chilly wind and hoped I wouldn’t freeze solid. When Debbie arrived, she took one look at me, ran back inside her house and came out with a lime green knitted toque which she unceremoniously pulled over my head.

“My hair!” I yelped. “I just had it done yesterday.”

“Fix it later. You have to dress properly if you’re gonna enjoy it. C’mon Steena.”

I was cold, but Debbie’s chatter kept me from dwelling on it. We talked of everything from the weather in Saskatchewan compared with Texas, to her grandkids and their antics, to Sam’s death. Again. Debbie seemed to home in on it like an hummingbird to sweetened red syrup.

“Are you set up okay?” Debbie asked.

“You mean financially? Yes.”

“Good. That’s a big worry for some people, you know, when their spouse dies. Sorry, passes away.”

“Passes. That’s what they call it now. As if he slipped away from me on a foggy night and I didn’t realize it in time.”

“I sense some anger here.”

The girl was nothing if not relentless. And tactless. “I’m not angry, only shocked and left reeling. Anger is pointless.”

“Anger is part of the grieving—”

“Don’t start with that,” I interrupted. “I’ve heard the sermons, read the books about the phases of anger and how we all go through them, only at different levels and in various orders. I am not angry.” So shut up already, I said in my head.

Seeger ran in front of me and I almost tripped over her. Nuisance of a dog.

By the time we returned to my door, my fingers were numb, my feet and legs ached, but I was thankful for the toque, even if my hair would be a mess.

“Thanks for coming, Jeannie. Next time wear flat boots or you’ll kill your feet. Yeah, Mickey loves law enforcement. So tomorrow we’re going into Regina to see my folks and figure out how to help them. So I won’t see you till Monday…or Tuesday, depending on how it goes. Bye for now, love,” and she gave me a hug and a peck on my frozen cheek while I tried to keep up with her scattered conversation.

As I took off my winter clothes and hung them back in the hall closet, I thought about several whole days without chatter, interruption and unwelcome walks. It would be a lovely, quiet weekend.

 

**Next installment next Thursday, November 1 right here on my blog. Only one month until Christmas!

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As stated last Thursday on my blog, I will be releasing my Christmas-themed short story scene by scene through the rest of October and November. Stay tuned each Thursday for the next installment, and enjoy!

 

Chapter One—Scene One

I wrapped Sam’s ratty red-plaid shirt around me more securely as I sat on the couch and watched the snow pelt down from a leaden sky, indiscriminately covering both the immaculate lawn in front of my house and the mess my new neighbors had created while moving in. The mess didn’t surprise me. Debbie had always been surrounded by mess and half-completed projects back when I knew her as a kid growing up. Apparently, she hadn’t changed.

I still couldn’t believe that spunky little Debbie Doram, now McCorkmick, had moved back to Moffat’s Landing. The biggest shock came when she and Mickey bought the house next door to mine.

I’d always liked my former neighbours, the VanWoordens. They were friendly but discreet. We had coffee back and forth several times a year, but they never intruded into our lives, although Jerry and my Sam did collaborate on a few yard projects. I hated to see them leave, but Mrs. V was beginning to show signs of Alzheimers and her husband needed a low maintenance home where he’d be able to care for her.

I couldn’t have been more surprised when Debbie and Mickey bought the house. They were anything but discreet, as far as I had observed. As if to prove the fact, my doorbell rang—not once but three times—and, if my door hadn’t been locked, Debbie would have burst right in. As it was, she called to me through the door while I set aside my photo albums and carried my tea to the kitchen table. She was bouncing up and down by the time I unlocked the door.

“Jeannie!” she squealed as she wrapped me in a hug. “I can’t believe we’re next door neighbors.”

I extricated myself from her smothering hug and stepped back. “I go by Jeanne now,” I said, as she brushed past me.

“You got the coffee on, Jeannie?” she asked.

“It’s Jeanne,” I insisted, but I don’t think she heard me.

“So? Coffee?” Her brown eyes danced in her round face, surrounded by the bobbing auburn curls I remembered from high school, now streaked faintly with gray.

I took a steadying breath. “I don’t drink coffee.”

She shrugged. “Tea? Water?” She grinned widely, showing her beautiful teeth. “I bet you drink water.”

Her effervescent grin gave me a dull pain at the base of my neck. I glanced at the hall clock. Ten a.m. Time to dust and vacuum through the house. I doubted Debbie would understand. If I made her a cup of tea, maybe she’d go home and leave me to my work.

“What about this weather, eh?” she commented. “I haven’t seen a lot of snow these past thirty years. Texas doesn’t get much. I can hardly wait to go sledding and skating and make snowmen when the grandkids come. You have grandkids, Jeannie?”

I opened my mouth to answer but she was talking again. “We have eight now, mostly in Texas, a few in California. Have you been to California? Great place to visit but way too ‘out there’ for me.”

I couldn’t imagine. I led the way to the kitchen and plugged in the kettle.

“Whoa! Nice place you got here. Bet I could eat off the floor! My place is still in shambles, but I’m hoping to at least have the kitchen straightened up by Christmas.”

“Christmas!” I couldn’t help but comment. “That’s a whole month away.”

“Yeah.” She grinned and winked. “But I can do it.”

I was about to ask Debbie what kind of tea she wanted, but she beat me to it.

“Just don’t give me any of that herbal junk.” She pronounced the “h” in herbal. “Makes me gag. If I’ve gotta have tea, then give me the strongest you got.”

She reached past me into the tea cabinet and rummaged through it, knocking several boxes out of place.

“Hmm. Guess I’ll risk Earl Grey. Where’s the sugar?”

She pulled open the next cabinet, stepped back and shot me a look of disgust. “Has someone been filming a kitchen organization show from your home? Geez, Louise! You scare me.”

Frowning, I pulled out the seldom-used sugar bowl and handed it to her, then took the cream carton from the fridge and reached for the cream pitcher.

“Whoa, girl!” Debbie said. “Don’t fuss over me. If you make a big production of it every time I drop in for coffee—I mean tea—you’ll wear yourself out.”

My headache had crept forward to my temples.

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Debbie as she settled her rounded frame into Sam’s kitchen chair. I sat across from her, picking up my morning tea to finish it. She propped her elbows on the table, hands wrapped around her cup, and smiled at me with sadness in her eyes. Here goes, I thought.

“So how have you been doing these thirty years since I left you for life’s adventures?”

This time she waited for me to answer but I needed time to come up with something acceptable. I took a sip of my lukewarm peppermint tea, hoping it would calm the sudden sharp pain in my chest, and rubbed the rim of my cup with my thumb as I fumbled for words.

“Well, it’s…I’ve been…” I looked into her eyes, now soft with compassion. “It was a good life till Sam left me.”

“Left you?” Two deep ridges formed between Debbie’s eyebrows. “I thought he died.”

I didn’t look away. “Yes. He died and left me alone.”

She stared a moment longer, then smoothed out her features and reached across the table to lay a hand on my arm. There were tears in her eyes.

“I know, Honey. I always got Moffat’s Musings, even when we were in Texas. I read Sam’s obituary and my heart broke for you.”

Her words, meant to comfort, only pinched the nerve of grief that pulsed constantly within my chest. But Debbie, who had rarely been comfortable with silence when I knew her, carried on.

“What happened anyway? The paper said it was sudden.”

The pain in my chest spread to my gut and I set down my cup to hug myself. It was so difficult to put into words.

“He, ah, he was working in the driveway clearing snow. We had an early winter last year and he didn’t want it to pile up on the driveway and get icy, so he tried to keep it cleared.”

I could still see Sam attacking the heavy snow with his new yellow snow shovel from Canadian Tire, his green knit toque pulled down over his ears, breath coming out in white puffs.  A former farmer, he dubbed the backyard and driveway his “back forty,” and claimed it as his own turf.

“Sam always whistled while he worked. It didn’t register with me right away, but suddenly I realized he had stopped whistling. I looked out and there he was, lying in a heap in the driveway.”

On edge with the telling, I stood and moved to the kitchen window where I’d been that terrible day almost a year ago. “I heard a shout and saw our neighbour, Mr. VanWoorden, running toward him.”

I grasped the countertop with both hands to still their shaking. “I ran out the door and Mr. V yelled at me to call 911, so I did. The ambulance only had to come from the hospital two blocks away, and it probably only took five minutes, but it seemed like hours.” I leaned against the counter, remembering.

“I held Sam, begged him to stay with me, begged God not to let him die, but somehow I knew he wouldn’t make it. The EMTs tried their best, but they couldn’t bring him back. Massive heart attack.”

I turned to look at Debbie and was surprised to see tears running down her face. I picked up the Kleenex box and took it to the table for her. My own eyes were dry. Maybe I’d cried out all my tears through the months of being without Sam. She grabbed a couple of tissues, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Then she jumped up.

“Oh Jeannie, I’m so sorry. You’ve lost the love of your life and I’m sitting here bawling my eyes out. I’ll get us some fresh tea.”

She plugged in the kettle again and fished around in my cabinet for whatever kind she thought I liked. “Here you go,” she said. “Chamomile. That’s relaxing, isn’t it? Oh girl, you’ve gotta learn to make coffee. This Earl Grey just isn’t cutting it.”

She refilled my cup with hot water, then added some to her own, along with two spoons of sugar and a generous splash of cream straight from the carton. Then she sat down across from me at the table again.

“So how have you been managing everything this past year? Did you have family here to help?”

“Emily—that’s our daughter—came out to stay with me for a couple of weeks, but she has a life out in Vancouver, and a job she apparently likes, so that was that. I had to pull up my socks and deal with reality.”

“What does that mean?”

Her question stumped me. Most people are content with stock answers because they really don’t want to delve into personal pain. But Debbie had never been most people. I rubbed my forehead to ease the ache. My fingers were cold. I was always cold.

“It means I’ve done what I had to do, asked for help when I needed it, hired a few people when I couldn’t do something myself. I’ve adjusted.”

Debbie frowned. “You’ve adjusted. Does that mean you’re coping or you’re content?”

I remembered Debbie being nosy and it irked me now.

“Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed and then she snorted. “You and your dry humour. At least you didn’t lose that.”

I couldn’t work up a smile for the life of me. Even when she was young she could move from caring to crass in very short order. I’d have to learn how to handle her if we were going to live in such close proximity. Set a few guidelines. Be upfront with her.

Suddenly she stood, carried her cup to the sink and set it down. “Well, Honey, I gotta go. Poor Mickey is up to his eyeballs moving furniture so I’d better tell him where to put it. He hates moving stuff too many times, poor guy, but I’m not sure myself where I want it all.”

She opened the door to leave, then turned back. “Too bad it snowed again. Makes everything wet and messy. Well girl, keep your chins up and I’ll see you later. Drop by for coffee if you can handle the mess. I’d love for you to meet Mickey. By the way, I love your shirt.”

I sensed sarcasm in her comment because the shirt, with its tattered tails, didn’t suit my image, not even at home, even though it was clean. Debbie came back over and hugged me, then walked out the door hollering “bye” as she went.

I sank into my chair, rested my head on my arms on the table and sighed deeply.

 

** Come back for the second scene next Thursday, October 18th.

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September 2018 New Releases

More in-depth descriptions of these books can be found on the ACFW Fiction Finder website.

Contemporary Romance:

A Baby for the Minister by Laurel Blount — Jilted at the altar, Natalie Davis has no one she can turn to—until Jacob Stone steps in. The single minister’s drawn to the beautiful mommy-to-be and wants to help…even if it goes against his congregation’s wishes and could cost him his job. But when she refuses to accept charity, can he convince her she’s more than a ministry project? (Contemporary Romance from Love Inspired [Harlequin])

Courting Her Secret Heart by Mary Davis — Deborah Miller lives a double life as an Amish woman—and a fashion model! All photography is forbidden in her Plain community, so she must keep her job a secret. But when Amos Burkholder starts helping at her family’s farm, hiding the truth from him is impossible. And soon she must choose between the Englischer world of modeling and the Amish man she’s come to love. (Contemporary Amish Romance from Love Inspired [Harlequin])

12 Gifts of Christmas by Lena Nelson Dooley — Can Malcolm MacGregor, a contemporary descendant of Scottish lairds, capture the heart of Brazilian-Italian beauty, Alanza Cantalamessa, in 12 days? (Contemporary Romance from Whitaker House)

All Made Up by Kara Isaac — Katriona McLeod has never gotten over Caleb Murphy, the one guy she’s ever loved. When she accepts a job as a make up artist on the latest looking-for-love reality TV show, Falling for the Farmer, she discovers to her horror that Caleb is the leading man and she’s cast as one of his harem. But she hides a secret that means that even if she wanted a second chance with the guy who broke her heart she could never have it. (Contemporary Romance, Independently Published)

An Amish Holiday Wedding by Carrie Lighte — On the brink of losing her bakery, the last thing Faith Yoder’s interested in is courting—until Hunter Schwartz returns to Willow Creek. After hiring him to deliver her treats to a Christmas festival, Faith’s determined their relationship will stay strictly professional. But despite a secret that’s kept her single, Faith can’t help but wish she and Hunter could become husband and wife. (Contemporary Amish Romance from Love Inspired [Harlequin])

Cozy Mystery:

Deadly Holiday by Marissa Shrock — The Christmas season greets Georgia Winston with a new boyfriend (maybe), a Christmas program to run, and a man dying at her feet. (Cozy Mystery, Independently Published)

General Contemporary/Women’s Fiction

From the Lake to the River by JPC Allen, Bettie Boswell, Carole Brown, Sandra Merville Hart, Tamera Lynn Kraft, Sharyn Kopf, Michelle Levigne, Cindy Thomson, and Rebecca Waters — Set in Ohio, in the past and present, these nine short stories and novellas by Ohio authors cover a wide range of genres, topics and locations. From Troy in the west to the North Coast and south-central Ohio. From Lake Erie to the Ohio River. From romance to YA adventure, with touches of mystery and humor. Dealing with historical events and situations, such as floods and the lasting effects of the Civil War. With characters involved in square dancing, theater, and music. Dealing with loss and danger, a second chance at love and taking a chance on love for the first time. Chances are good, no matter what you have a taste for reading, you’ll find something to like. Welcome to a taste of the Buckeye State! (General Contemporary from Mt Zion Ridge Press)

Place Called Home by Brenda S. Anderson — While building his graphic design company, Nate Brooks is focused on the future he’s dreamed of: traveling around the country from the comfort of his renovated school bus. But when he picks up a wounded, mysterious hitchhiker, those well-laid plans take a backseat to protecting her. Hobbled by her injury, and unable to keep running from her controlling ex, Tessa fears she’ll never find freedom. Or has she found it with the family who graciously opens their home to her? And will Nate’s protection put his family–and his heart–at risk? (Women’s Fiction, Independently Published)

Swimming in the Deep End by Christina Suzann Nelson — Jillian Connors has big expectations for her teenage daughter, Gabby, an Olympic hopeful—until Gabby becomes pregnant with her boyfriend Travis’s child. Meanwhile, Margaret Owens is furious that Gabby’s condition jeopardizes her son’s baseball scholarship. In the midst of the family drama lies the fate of the unborn baby. What does the future hold for him? (General Contemporary from Kregel Publications)

Historical:

Hidden Among the Stars by Melanie Dobson — A gripping time-slip novel about hidden treasure, a castle, and ordinary people who resisted the evils of the Hitler regime in their own extraordinary way. (Historical from Tyndale House)

Everything She Didn’t Say by Jane Kirkpatrick — A Victorian woman who traveled 15,000 miles by stage between 1870-98 decides to tell the story behind her memoir believing her husband will never see it. (Historical from Revell – A Division of Baker Publishing Group)

Enya’s Son by Cindy Thomson — This retelling of the early life of St. Columcille and his mother will usher readers on a fateful journey through ancient Ireland’s monastic centers, her wild coastline islands, and the land Columcille believed was filled with holy angels, a place where he felt safe … yet was destined to abandon. (Historical, Independently Published)

Historical Romance:

Victorian Christmas Brides by C.J. Chase, Susanne Dietze, Rita Gerlach, Kathleen L. Maher, Gabrielle Meyer, Carrie Fancett Pagels, Vanessa Riley, Lorna Seilstads, and Erica Vetsch — Faced with the daily extremes of gluttony and want in the Victorian Era, nine women seek to create the perfect Christmas celebrations. But will expectations and pride cause them to overlook imperfect men who offer true love? (Historical Romance from Barbour Publishing)

Esther’s Temptation by Lena Nelson Dooley — Saddle weary, former deputy US Marshal Jac Andrews rides into Denton, Texas hunting a swindler-and-daughter criminal team and finally feels he’s caught up to them. Unfortunately, he becomes distracted by the lovely redhead, Esther Brians. Esther, feeling like an old maid surrounded by all her close friends who are happy married couples, is drawn to the intense gaze, blue as the Texas sky, of an unknown cowboy. But several things cause her to become wary of his intentions—and his spiritual well-being. Has this unsaved lawman captured Esther’s heart or will the Lord deliver her from the temptation of Jac’s presence? What will it take for Jac to win this lovely lady and become Esther’s husband? (Historical Romance, Independently Published)

The Sound of Distant Thunder by Jan Drexler — Katie Stuckey and Jonas Weaver are both romantics. Seventeen-year-old Katie is starry-eyed, in love with the idea of being in love, and does not want to wait to marry Jonas until she is eighteen, despite her parents’ insistence. So much can happen in a year. Twenty-year-old Jonas is taken in by the romance of soldiering, especially in defense of anti-slavery, even though he knows war is at odds with the teachings of the church. When his married brother’s name comes up in the draft list, he volunteers to take his brother’s place. But can the commitment Katie and Jonas have made to each other survive the separation? (Historical Romance from Revell – A Division of Baker Publishing Group)

Romantic Suspense:

Loving the Texas Negotiator by Mary Connealy — Beth Garrison is the top hostage negotiator in Rocky Ridge Texas. She’s called in to a task force to investigate a killing that is a copy cat of her first bust as a rookie cop. The Valentine Killer.
Tate McCade, with the best arrest record on the force and a reputation for steamrolling anyone who gets in his way, heads the task force. He’s had a run-in with Beth and her oversized ego. He’s got a bruise on his face to prove it. Rather than have the pleasure of busting her back to walking a beat, he has to work with her. And the clock is ticking because there’s a woman and child missing and nothing about the crime adds up. (Romantic Suspense, Independently Published)

Speculative:

Guardian of Ajalon by Joan Campbell — The poison tree path is Shara’s road home. . .if she and her companions can survive the journey. In the danger and darkness of the forest, her only respite is in the story unlocked in the Old Tongue book. In this vivid world, Shara finally discovers what she has longed for all her life: the key to the secrets of her past. Yet time is running out for Shara—and all of Tirragyl—as Lord Lucian, King Alexor, and the royal army attack the Guardian Grotto to claim the powerful Guardian Rock. Unwilling to sit idly by as her kingdom is destroyed, Queen Nyla leaves her hiding place to recruit a most unlikely army—the Charab. But how can she win over the infamous assassins who have been oppressed by her family for generations? (Speculative Allegory from Enclave Publishing)

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In case you’re new to Alan Bradley’s Flavia de Luce Mysteries, I’ll give you a quick review: Flavia de Luce is a 11-12 year old girl (her age changes as the story progresses) from Buckshaw, a rundown estate near Bishop’s Lacy, some distance from London. She lives with her father, Colonel de Luce, and her two sisters, Ophelia (Feely) and Daphne (Daffy). Flavia must constantly beware of the meanness of her sisters, but she has her avenues of revenge. Her bedroom is situated in “the unheated wing of Buckshaw” in what used to be Uncle Tar’s chemistry lab, and Flavia knows her elements. She keeps stumbling over corpses and following through to investigate the conditions of their demise. An old soul, but a sturdy one, she steals our hearts. The stories are set in the 1950s. Full series review here.

Book 8 of the Flavia de Luce Mystery series, Thrice the Branded Cat Hath Mew’d is no less engaging than its predecessors. Flavia is back from banishment to a girls’ school in Canada, back at her beloved Buckshaw, when she is asked to run an errand for a friend. She arrives at the given address, only to discovery a body in a distinctly peculiar position. In true Flavia fashion, she does not scream or run, but makes meticulous observations as to the body and its surroundings.

Author, Alan Bradley, continues the Flavia saga with wit, charm and plot lines that do not follow assumed direction. The characters satisfy our expectations with their uniqueness. Example: Mrs. Mullet, the cook at Buckshaw advises: “…no good tryin’ to see into next week when your feet is still all tangled up in yesterday. If all that nonsense worked…why don’t they use it on the stork exchange?” (page 152, paperback)

Bradley’s descriptions move past cliche: “All of which had bounced off Undine’s back like H2O off an Aylesbury duck.” (page 228) His words promote moods apropos of the action: “It is at moments…of great distress—that time becomes treacle and things go into a peculiar, oozing sort of slow motion…” (page 278)

Bradley’s writing draws me in with its distinctive style and remarkable content. And he keeps up the suspense until the final page. In this case, the final few lines. Not at all what I was expecting.

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August 2018 New Releases

More in-depth descriptions of these books can be found on the ACFW Fiction Finder website.

Contemporary Romance:
Out of Their Element by Angela Breidenbach, Robin Lee Hatcher, Vickie McDonough, and Deborah Raney — They are totally out of their element! Four mismatched couples find unexpected romance. (Contemporary Romance, Independently Published)

The Redemption Road by Christa MacDonald — As Alex awaits retribution, he means to keep Annie safe at any cost, but she knows it’s redemption he needs and she’ll pay any price for him to find it. (Contemporary Romance from Mountain Brook Ink)

Scarlet Tears by Laura Hervey — Caught in a romantic triangle with her brother’s best friend and a charming pastor, former call girl Carly Lawrence struggles to start a new life. (Contemporary Romance from Alabaster Box Press)

 

 

 

Historical Romance:

Rebecca’s Legacy by Betty Thomason Owens — After a threat against her family, a spoiled heiress is sent to the country to work on her aunt’s produce farm and finds love. (Historical Romance from Write Integrity Press)

The Patriot Bride by Kimberley Woodhouse — Faith Jackson is a wealthy widow, friend of George Washington, and staunch supporter of the Patriot cause. Matthew Weber is friends with both Ben Franklin and his son William, who increasingly differ in their political views; and Matthew finds himself privy to information on both sides of the conflict. When a message needs to get to a spy among the Loyalists, Faith bravely steps up and in turn meets Matthew Weber. Suddenly she believes she could love again. But someone else has his eye on the Faith she portrays in elite social circles. What will Matthew and Faith have to sacrifice for the sake of their fledgling country? (Historical Romance from Barbour Publishing)

 

 

 

Cozy Mystery:

Deadly Harvest by Marissa Shrock — Georgia’s biggest challenge in the farming town of Wildcat Springs, Indiana, is figuring out how to win Evan Beckworth’s heart. Until the day she discovers the body of a former student in the woods. When she starts to suspect this wasn’t an accident, memories stir of her father’s murder nine years earlier. A murder never solved. As Georgia works with the sheriff’s department’s newest detective, Cal Perkins, she finds her heart slipping into his hands. But her head is pummeled with conflicting evidence and anonymous threats of severe consequences if she digs any deeper. In the end, Georgia faces a paralyzing choice. Ignore the dark secrets inside the family and friends who surround her or be willing to risk her own life to uncover the truth. (Cozy Mystery, Independently Published)

Unknown Enemy by Janet Sketchley — A young woman with a traumatic past must discover the truth about who’s playing mind games with the Green Dory Inn’s owner. (Cozy Mystery, Independently Published)

 

 

 

Romantic Suspense:

Hiding in Plain Sight by Mary Ellis — When a Charleston PI rents a room above an Italian restaurant owned by a handsome chef, she lands in the middle of a family feud with robbery, arson and murder for the daily specials. (Romantic Suspense from Severn House Publishers LTD)

Wildfire by Gayla K. Hiss — A female wildfire scientist and a firefighter team up to solve the mystery behind the outbreak of wildfires in the Rockies and find themselves at the center of a firestorm. (Romantic Suspense from Mountain Brook Ink)

Amish Country Ambush by Dana R. Lynn — A police officer and a dispatcher travel deep into Amish country to rescue her nephew and to escape a killer. (Romantic Suspense from Love Inspired [Harlequin])


Imperfect Promises by Elizabeth Noyes — When a homegrown terrorist threatens the woman he loves, former Special Forces soldier Jonas Cameron calls on old friends to help him eliminate the danger. (Romantic Suspense from Write Integrity Press)

Cold Fear by Susan Sleeman — When a sniper’s ex-girlfriend, a musician, is framed for murder during her summer tour, he jumps to defend her from an imminent arrest and a killer’s deadly rage. But the evidence against her stacks higher as three bodies are found with her name tattooed on their wrist. (Romantic Suspense from Edge of Your Seat Books, Inc.)

Cold Case Cover-Up by Virginia Vaughan — The first thrilling Covert Operatives tale An infant is believed to have been murdered thirty years ago—but investigative journalist Dana Lang is convinced she’s that baby. Now someone’s willing to kill to stop her investigation. And only secretive deputy Quinn Dawson, whose grandfather may have faked Dana’s death to protect her, can keep her safe. But a killer’s dead set on burying the past—and them—for good. (Romantic Suspense from Love Inspired [Harlequin])

 

 

 

Thriller/Suspense:

Pretense by John Di Frances — A dark cloud hangs over Europe after the brutal murders of two heads of state just days apart. A diabolical plot appears to stretch westward to the United States, implicating the CIA. But do the facts reflect reality or is there a sinister force working behind the scenes to destabilize Europe and NATO? The team of investigators led by Interpol’s Marek Frakas, ‘The Wolf,’ moves quickly to track the perpetrators and uncover the identity of the unseen mastermind behind the conspiracy. This cadre includes the lovely Adrianna, a young forensic weapons expert who can hold her own on the male-dominated international team of investigators. Together they seek to understand reality versus the shattered mirror-like reflections meant to obfuscate the truth and shroud the mastermind’s identity and ultimate purpose. (Political Thriller from Reliance Books Publishing, LLC)

Thirst of Steel by Ronie Kendig — Dismantled centuries ago, the sword of Goliath is still rumored to thirst for its enemies’ blood. Cole “Tox” Russell wants only to put the dangers of his past behind him and begin his new life with Haven Cortes. First, though, he’s called to complete a final mission: retrieve the sword and destroy the deadly Arrow & Flame Order. The AFO, however, is determined to reunite the sword. With the Wraith team slowly being torn apart, things worsen when Mercy Maddox, a new operative, emerges with the stunning news that the artifact is tied to a string of unsolved serial murders. Tox and the others are forced to set aside fear and anger to target the true enemy. No matter the cost, Wraith must destroy the AFO . . . or join them in the flames. (Military Suspense from Bethany House [Baker])

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I met this book on a friend’s book review blog, and it sounded intriguing. I was not disappointed. What’s not to like about a main character with a blank past, vague memories of another world, romance, danger, world travel and even time travel?

One night, a young woman finds herself in a New York museum with no memory of who she is or how she got there. An employee gives her a job researching an ancient civilization, the Minoan culture, and that becomes her life. Kallie is content with her place in the basement office of the museum, until she is thrust into the limelight at a fundraiser. It is there that she meets Dimitri Andreas, a wealthy and handsome benefactor of the museum, whose favor she must seek. Her sales pitch is a disaster, but she meets Dimitri personally, and he seems more interested in her and her research than in her failed speech.

A series of unforeseen incidents bring them together, but they come from different levels of society, and Kallie harbors her secret of a missing past. When she is asked by Dimitri to join a team to Egypt to look for artifacts from the Minoan civilization, she realizes she has a strong affinity for the region. She also comes to see that Dimitri Andreas is also not the person he seems to be. When their desires would pull them together, their secrets keep them apart.

The sequence of events creates plot intensity, the characters are strong figures who seek their true identity with integrity and courage, and even the artifacts they seek are not what they expect. Throw in an antagonist who cares for nothing but the end game, and the intensity increases.

I particularly enjoyed Kallie’s journey of self-discovery, allowing her true character to emerge.

Interesting links:

Book Reviewer Janet Sketchley

Author Tracy Higley

Tracy Higley

 

 

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