Wednesday, October 09, 2024

Releasing Friday, October 11, 2024: THE KEEPER'S SECRET!


A review from Gail at Night Owl Romance stated, "Award winning author Penelope Marzec has done it again. The Keeper's Promise grabs the reader's attention from the very first and never lets go. This inspirational romantic suspense story has it all. Pick it up as soon as possible for one wonderful ride."

You can find it at all major ebook distributors: 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Keepers-Secret-Penelope-Marzec-ebook/dp/B0D4MKRR93/

Thursday, October 03, 2024

Saving Your Life




This is a familiar site in NJ in the spring. These are horseshoe crabs involved in important work.  They could be saving your life.

One quart of horseshoe crab blood can sell for $15,000 to $60,000. The pharmaceutical industry uses the blood to test for impurities in drugs and medical devices--everything from injectable medication to stents. So far, there is nothing else as reliable as the blue blood of these prehistoric creatures. It's highly accurate.

It was when I was writing The Keeper's Secret that I went off on a tangent and discovered the worth of horseshoe crabs. The book is set in the Delaware Bay area, which has the highest population of horseshoe crabs. One of the characters in the story is a scientist conducting horseshoe crab research. I knew a bit about horseshoe crabs because I saw plenty of them in Raritan Bay when I was growing up there. But I did not have a clue about their amazing blood.

There's very little in my book about the value of horseshoe crabs. I got sidetracked while I was writing. That sort of thing happens to me all the time. It isn't always easy to stay focused on the story at hand. It's a problem. Especially when I discover something truly incredible--and this thing about horseshoe crab blood is rather awe-inspiring.

So although I wasted some of my writing time in unnecessary research, I gained a new respect for the lowly horseshoe crabs.  I was reminded of it when I saw an article in the Asbury Park Press, "Rutgers lab churning out baby horseshoe crabs."

I suggest you read it, too. You can find it here:


http://www.app.com/story/news/local/new-jersey/2014/09/27/rutgers-lab-churning-baby-horseshoe-crabs/16329981/

Those crabs may look grotesque, but they have been invaluable to advances in medicine. However, science keeps marching on. There may be hopeful news for horseshoe crabs. 

https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2018/05/blood-in-the-water/559229/?utm_source=twb

Though the FDA is still staying to the tried and true method.


At any rate, horseshoe crabs are an important part of our ecosystem. We should take care of them. 

💗 💗 💗 💗 💗

Wednesday, September 25, 2024

A Lot of Marsh and Me


    That's me at a clam festival in southwestern NJ many years ago. The town had set up the easels, providing watercolor and brushes for anyone who wanted to try their hand at making a painting of the marsh. I thought it was great fun. Although, the scene was mostly sky, mud, a little water, and lots of grass. Of course, there was the aroma of the marsh, too. Since I grew up near a marsh, I don't mind that odor at all. The festival did not include a ferris wheel, it did have a boat show, and lots of seafood. There was also a giant frog. 😂 It was a wonderful adventure.

    While New Jersey is the most densely populated state in the country, it has plenty of empty areas, too. One of the largest is the Pine Barrens, which covers 22% of the total land area and includes portions of seven counties. 

    When I wrote THE KEEPER'S SECRET, I decided setting it in a very small town would be ideal. Small towns are rife with gossip and everyone knows everyone, but some people are very good at keeping secrets hidden. 

    I hope you'll take a look at THE KEEPER'S SECRET. It's available for pre-order now. It will be released on October 11th. 

💖 💖 💖 💖 💖


    

Wednesday, September 18, 2024

Guest Post: KING OF HEARTS by M. Jean Pike

My guest today is M. Jean Pike. Some of her favorite things are changing seasons, unexpected blessings, and Love that lasts forever. With a writing career that has spanned two decades, Jean combines an insatiable curiosity about humans and why they do what they do with a keen interest in the quirky and offbeat things in life to bring readers unforgettable tales of life, love, and the inner workings of the human heart. Her short works have been featured in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Lutheran Digest, Whispers From Heaven and others.

Her new release is KING OF HEARTS. This is what it's about:

After keeping a secret promise to a friend, Harper Blessings' s life is spiraling out of control. Her food truck barely pays the bills, she' s raising her rebellious brother and caring for her forgetful aunt...and she' s four months pregnant.

When Aunt Clara wanders off at a carnival and hires the carousel operator who rescues her to do odd jobs, Harper' s house-of-cards life begins to topple. The last thing she needs is a handsome drifter complicating her already problematic life. Or so she thinks.

Drifter Dalton Kingston has a few secrets of his own. Growing up as a child of privilege, he wanted for nothing...except love. Then an unspeakable tragedy causes him to walk away from it all, pushing love as far away as possible. Until love pushes back in the form of a beautiful woman who desperately needs his help, and the God he' s not sure he can forgive.

Do you want a taste of this wonderful story?

Here it is!

“Aunt Clara?” Her voice was gentle, musical. “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

The old woman smiled. “I’ve come to meet you for lunch.”

The girl’s glance took in her aunt’s slippers, her uncombed hair. “Where’s Nicky?”

“He was sleeping like an angel. I couldn’t bear to wake him, so I came on my own.”

“Oh dear. Here, let’s get you out of the sun.” She steered her aunt to one of the tables and seated her beneath a pink –and- white- striped table umbrella. 

“This is my great niece, Harper,” Clara told Dalton. “My home girl.”

Despite her obvious agitation, Harper smiled. “Now where did you hear that?”

“Nicholas taught it to me.” 

“Aunt Clara,” she said gently, “I thought we agreed you were going to wait for Nicky to come with you to the festival today.”

“But he’s sleeping. And I had this nice young man to help me.” She beamed at Dalton. “He operates the carousel. I don’t know his name.”

“Dalton King.”  His gaze dropped from her eyes to the bulge beneath her apron. She saw him notice it and her face flushed a pretty pink. 

“Harper Blessings. Thank you for helping my aunt. She gets a little mixed up sometimes.”

“I’m not mixed up, dear.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” She patted her aunt’s hand. “I can’t take a lunch break right now but let me bring you a cold drink.” 

“Don’t trouble yourself, dear.”

“It’s no trouble. Wait right here, OK?”

Pulling her cell phone from her apron pocket, she disappeared around the side of the food truck. Several moments later she returned with two bottles of water. She handed one to her aunt, and the other to Dalton. “Nicky’s on his way to walk you home. Can you wait right here until he arrives?”

“I can walk home alone, dear. It’s only a few blocks, and it’s such a pretty day out.”

“Aunt Clara, we have talked about this.”  

 Dalton ran a hand through his hair, letting it linger on the back of his neck. His work was clearly done here. This was a family matter. And though Harper Blessings was clearly in a quandary, the world’s wrongs were not his to right anymore. Even so, he heard himself say, “I’ll wait with her.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do--”

“Harper?” the girl at the counter called. “We’re almost out of onions.” 

She shot a glance at the growing line of customers, clearly torn, unable to leave the grill unattended, and unwilling to leave her elderly aunt in the hands of a stranger. She must have decided he was the lesser of two evils, because she finally said, “Thank you. My brother will be here in just a few minutes.” 

He shrugged. “It’s no problem.”  

But it was. The way her gaze turned him inside out, like the subtle turn of a key in a door he’d thought locked up tight. The sudden vertigo he felt when his eyes met hers that made him feel as though the ground was tilting beneath his feet. These were definite problems for Dalton Kingston.


Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/King-Hearts-M-Jean-Pike-ebook/dp/B0D48XZH16/ref=monarch_sidesheet_title

PBG: https://pelicanbookgroup.com/ec/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=37_46&products_id=1679

My Blog:

https://mjeanpike.wordpress.com/

FB:

https://www.facebook.com/JeanPikeBooks



Wednesday, September 11, 2024

Guest Post: CONVINCING LOU by Jodie Wolfe


My guest today is Jodie Wolfe. She creates novels where hope and quirky meet. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), and Faith, Hope, & Love Christian Writers (FHLCW). She's been a semi-finalist and finalist in various writing contests. A former columnist for Home School Enrichment magazine, her articles can be found online at: CrosswalkChristian Devotions, and Heirloom Audio. When not writing she enjoys spending time with her husband in Pennsylvania, reading, knitting, and walking. Learn more at www.jodiewolfe.com.



Jodie Wolfe's latest release is Convincing Lou. What to know more? Here's the blurb:


How hard can it be to round up one delinquent groom?

 

Ellie Lou Williams will do just about anything to save her ranch, even going undercover as a man to round up a fella who is late to his own wedding. The reward will more than cover the money she owes the bank and solve all her problems.

 

Caleb Dawson agrees to one final job as a deputy US Marshal before he starts his new life away from the trail and tracking criminals. What he isn’t counting on is a mysterious bounty hunter who’s determined to undermine his every step.

 

Will one reach their goal first? Or will they learn to lean on God and work together?

 

Now for the Excerpt of Convincing Lou

1

Burrton Springs, Kansas

December 3, 1877

Four weeks. Four weeks until Ellie Lou Williams lost everything her late husband had worked so hard to achieve. Her chest constricted and a sharp pain shot the length of her left arm. Where was her deep faith in God when she needed it the most? Dried up and crumpled like a dull, brown leaf separated from the tree in fall. Useless. Ground under a shoe until it became pulverized. No good to anyone. Where was the elusive peace she’d talked about with others, pointing them to scripture? Why did she feel like the Israelites during the years in the Bible where God was silent in between the Old and New Testament?

Her words from a few months ago rose to haunt her. “My life is in His hands to do with how He sees fit. I will do whatever I can to keep this ranch because it’s what Charles would’ve wanted, but if it somehow gets taken away, I still must trust God has a plan even when I can’t see it.” She snorted. That was easy to say until she had to actually live it. I feel as if I’ve lived a lifetime since I said those words, God. If I lose the ranch, I have nowhere to go. Nobody alive to rely on. She toed her boot in the thick dust along the street. Are you listening, God?

“Hi, Ellie Lou.” Mary Scott waved. “I haven’t seen you in town since all that excitement at your ranch a few months back.”

She wouldn’t call being held at gun point ‘excitement’. Too bad there hadn’t been any reward money for the capture of the outlaws who’d held her. If there had been she wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Were you planning to stop by Betty’s shop?” The elderly woman slipped her arm through Ellie Lou’s. “Or perhaps you were going to see Gertrude at her place instead.”

Ellie Lou glanced at the shop marked ‘Ruffles and Stitches’. She hadn’t seen much of her newly wedded friend, Gertrude Valentine, but a visit could wait until another time. “I can come in for a few moments to see Betty.”

“Oh, good. She’s been in such a dither.” Mary tugged her in the direction of her niece’s shop.

Ellie Lou held back a sigh. Best to focus on someone else’s troubles instead of her own for a bit. “What’s got her upset?”

The bell above the door chimed as they entered the ladies dress shop.

“There you are, Aunt Mary.” Betty Hadler fanned her flushed cheeks. “We’ve got to do something.”

Mary released Ellie Lou’s arm and patted her niece’s hand. “Now, dear, I’m sure your fiancé will show soon.”

“But he was supposed to be here weeks ago. He said he only had to make a short stop in Topeka. I’m afraid something’s happened to him.” Betty withdrew a handkerchief from the pocket in her skirt and dabbed her moist eyes. “The stagecoach has been coming regularly so he couldn’t have been delayed because of that.”

“Now, now. Don’t you fret.”

Ellie Lou cleared her throat, unsure whether to step away from the private conversation or to remain. She took a step backward.

“I’m thinking of hiring someone to go after him.” Betty sniffed and wiped her nose.

Ellie Lou’s ears perked. Could this be an answer to her prayers? Please, Lord.



 

Social Media Links

Website: https://www.jodiewolfe.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Jodie-Wolfe-553400191384913

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jodie-wolfe

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/JodieAWolfe

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15220520.Jodie_Wolfe

 

Purchase Links:

https://qr.pbgrp.link/convlou


Saturday, September 07, 2024

Sunday Scenes: A RUSH OF LIGHT


A RUSH OF LIGHT
is the story of Callie Turner. When she was sixteen her father was murdered but the crime was never solved. Callie became a cop with a mistrust of lawyers. Due to an accident, she is on a disability leave from her job, and trying to start a new career at her father's old inn. Nick Messina saved Callie's life the day her father was murdered. A devout Christian, but a burned out lawyer, Nick has plenty of reasons not to trust cops. Filling in at his uncle's service station, Nick walks into the old inn and is surprised to discover Callie is managing the old inn across the street. 

Her customer regarded her with a measure of surprise, which made her feel as though he could look right through her. Putting one hand up to touch the buttons of her white shirt, she reassured herself that none had come undone. Her gaze wandered to his lips and lingered there. Few men had a mouth so generous. 

What am I thinking? The room warmed—as if she stood in the middle of a street during a July heat wave directing traffic. She grabbed an icy bottle of water and went in search of the broom. Everything about him puzzled her. Why did she have a nagging sense that she had met him before this? 

Two months ago she returned to town. Very little changed in the area during the eight years of her absence. Her customer may have grown up here as she had, though she judged him to be slightly older. It could be possible he knew her sister. 

She cooled down, located the broom and the dustpan, and heard the front door open again. Another customer joined Mr. Dirty Fingernails. The two appeared acquainted with each other and moved to a booth in the corner. Leaning the broom up against the bar, Callie stepped on plenty of peanuts as she made her way to the table. 

Her newest customer wore a vested suit. Judging from his leather attaché, she guessed he was either a lawyer or a securities broker, but since he was talking to Mr. Dirty Fingernails, the lawyer idea seemed more plausible.

“May I get you something?” she asked. 

“Dewars on the rocks.” He hurled the order at her with words clipped, cold and exact. 

When she announced the price, he slid a credit card onto the table. He didn’t even give her a glance—as if she were less than human. A spark of anger ignited deep down inside her. 

Definitely a lawyer. She hated them all.

“Cash only,” she said, unable to eliminate the contempt from her voice.

The man turned, narrowed his eyes and gave her a sharp look. “I don’t carry cash.”

Mr. Dirty Fingernails hurriedly reached for his wallet again. 

“I’ll get it.” He handed her the money. 

Deliberately stomping the peanuts under her feet, Callie went back behind the bar, finding it nearly impossible to stifle her hostility. She should have taken the lawyer’s credit card and shredded it into slivers. 

She chose a glass, scooped up the ice, poured the Scotch, snatched up a cocktail napkin, and started back to the table. 

She discovered crushed peanuts are far more slippery than whole peanuts. As she rounded the end of the bar, her feet slid out from under her. The drink went flying and crashed against the gleaming brass bar rail. She snatched at the broom, hoping to break her fall. The long handle landed on a chair and prevented her from breaking the same arm she mangled last year. Her bottom landed with a resounding thud on the floor, miraculously missing the busted glass by inches. 

Mortified, she winced as the heat blazed in her cheeks. This whole entrepreneurial experiment could turn out to be a disaster if she made pratfalls the regularly scheduled entertainment. 

The two men rushed over to her.

“I know a great workers' comp lawyer...”

“Cut it out, John.” Mr. Dirty Fingernails reached out to her with one of his contaminated paws. “Can you get up?”

She glanced up into his face and found concern gentling his rugged jaw. A crazy flutter tingled inside her chest. She held out her hand, completely ignoring his unwashed state, and that’s when he gave her a genuine smile—one that deepened a dimple in his cheek. Once again, an odd sense of déjà vu came over her. 

She had seen him before. Yet, for some reason, she could not recall where or when, which for her seemed very strange. 

The calluses on his warm hand rubbed against her skin. That summertime heat wave-on-the-asphalt feeling came over her once more and she could barely breathe as the man who remained an enigma in her memory helped her to her feet. 

“Nick, I’ve told you a million times. Don’t be so ready to lend a hand. One of these days, you’re going to get sued,” the vested lawyer grumbled.

“Have you forgotten the good Samaritan?” Nick—or Mr. Dirty Fingernails—asked the lawyer. 

Callie could have sworn something magnetic kept her hand in his. She had to force herself to draw away from him, to edge away from his potent attraction, one millimeter at a time. Once she broke away, she leaned against the bar with her mind racing, searching for some scrap of recollection. The lawyer called him Nick, and though that did not help her memory, she easily envisioned meeting him in some dark alley in the city where she used to work. She wondered which crime he committed. She wondered if he recognized her. 

“A good Samaritan would be taking a deposition,” the lawyer insisted. 

“Please tell me that someday you are going to turn into a human.” Nick sighed. 

The lawyer aimed a look at Nick capable of slicing flesh. 

Unfazed, Nick threw a glare right back at John. “The courts cannot solve everything, as you well know.” 

Callie tried to surreptitiously dust off her derriere. Men like Nick and his friend could smile at you as they pointed a gun at your heart. She did not trust either of them. 

The animosity between the two men charged the room with tension and Callie’s anxiety increased. She believed by moving back home she would leave all the dark alleys behind her, but here in her father’s old inn she sensed danger. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nick laid his hand on her good arm and the impression of menace diminished while soothing warmth shimmered up from his touch. If someone zapped her with a Taser, she would not be more surprised. 

“I landed where there’s plenty of padding. No problem.” She wanted to sound flippant and tough—like the hard-bitten cop she once was. However, her voice came out a little wavery—which was his fault, not hers. 

“What padding? You could use some of my Aunt Bella’s pasta.” He gave her hand a tender squeeze before letting it go. Callie found ice creeping back into her soul. 




Buy it at any of the distributors below! 

Thursday, September 05, 2024

Now Available for Pre-Order: THE KEEPER'S SECRET


I am so excited! THE KEEPER'S SECRET will be released on October 11, 2024. You can order it now so you don't forget the date. 😁 You don't want to miss this one. 

Here's the blurb:

Shucker' s Point, New Jersey never had a murder until now. Jack St. Marie, a well-known research scientist is missing, and Trooper Bryce Johnson believes the worst of Jack' s wife, Evie. 

In high school, Bryce loved Evie--enough to want to marry her, but that was before he witnessed her phone in a bogus bomb scare. And only two months before Jack disappeared, Bryce saw Evie aiming a gun at her husband. Can Bryce believe in Evie's innocence when her husband' s body is found in a fishing dredge twenty miles out at sea? Could the most beautiful woman in Shucker' s Point be capable of such a heinous crime? He doesn't want to believe it.

Bryce refuses to let his heart guide the investigation...until someone shoots at Evie. Then he must protect her. But can he protect his heart?

You can find the book at most major distributors. Here are the links: 

Amazon

Kobo

Barnes&Noble

Apple

Google




Friday, August 30, 2024

Sunday Scenes: ANGEL OF THE L TRAIN!


 
ANGEL OF THE L TRAIN is available on most digital platforms. 

Amazon

Kobo

 Barnes & Noble

 Google

 Apple

Pelican Book Group


Enjoy an excerpt from the first chapter: 

Thea Ahern twisted her hands in her lap as she sat in front of the huge polished desk of LetSlip’s CEO. The receptionist in the notorious gossip magazine’s human resources office took one look at Thea and sent her directly to this office, which seemed odd. Still, this interview was the first one she’d managed to get, and while LetSlip’s reputation might be unsavory, it was a job—and she needed money. 

As the petite CEO studied Thea’s portfolio, Thea glanced at the huge, abstract painting covering the wall on her left. She clamped her jaw together in an effort to prevent displaying any trace of emotion. Her mother created that work of art ten years ago or so. Sorrow pierced Thea as she remembered her mother’s joy in splashing the canvas with the vivid colors. It spanned the entire wall, brightening up the otherwise drab office. 

“I’m impressed with your work.” The woman stated from across the other side of the massive desk. 

“Thank you, Ms. Capello.” Thea gave a tentative smile as a sense of relief flowed through her. 

“Please, call me Salbatora. We use first names only at LetSlip. We’re all family here.” The woman shoved aside Thea’s portfolio. “You haven’t lived in Brooklyn for long. I can tell by your accent. Where did you grow up?”

“In south Jersey,” Thea answered. 

“Down the shore?” The woman tapped her well- manicured fingers on the shiny desk. 

“Sort of, actually in the Pine Barrens.” 

“I’ve never been there.” The woman turned her head to stare at the painting on the wall. 

A strange chill slid up Thea’s spine. 

The woman returned her attention to Thea. “How do you like New York?”

Thea faltered. It’s too noisy—especially at night. “It’s lively.” 

A flash of humor crossed Salbatora’s face. “Yes, that it is.” The CEO folded her hands on the desk, her eyes seemed suddenly remote. “Can you tell me about a time when you were faced with a stressful situation that demonstrated your coping skills?” 

Thea’s heart pounded. When it came to dealing with stress and managing to cope, Thea considered herself the reigning champion. She believed she deserved a trophy. But she must not tell her problems to Salbatora. Not now. Not ever. 

A minute ticked by. Thea stared at her hands as perspiration beaded on her brow. She needed to say something. She closed her eyes and remembered...a scary incident. Thank you, Lord. 

“When I went to college, pets weren’t allowed in the dorm, but one of the guys kept a lizard in his room, using a heat lamp for warmth. Word went out about a room inspection, and the lizard owner threw a blanket over the terrarium before he went to eat dinner.”

“I see...” The words were a bare whisper. 

Thea drew in a breath and continued the story. “The blanket caught on fire and smoke filled the hallway. The sprinklers went on, but the situation was chaotic for several minutes. Some of the students became hysterical about leaving their stuff, but I stayed calm and led them out of the building.” 

“The lizard?” 

“He passed away, but none of the students were injured.” Thea did not consider herself a heroine, but the event remained a traumatic memory. No doubt, it wasn’t the sort of stress workers withstood putting together a gossip magazine. “At any rate, the campus police arrived quickly. Still, most things in the dorm were ruined by water damage.” 

“What did you lose?”

“My laptop, books, clothes, and bedding—like everyone else in the building.” Thea shrugged. “But folks in my hometown helped me out afterward.” 

“How fortunate for you.”

“Yes. The people in the town where I grew up are the best.” Thea sighed. She missed her home. 

“What town is that?”

“Woods End. It’s very small. Out in the Pine Barrens, as I said.” 

“I guess that’s why I never heard of it.” Salbatora stood. 

Thea swallowed hard and rose. Was she being dismissed? Did she fail the interview? Maybe the example she gave didn’t measure up to the CEO’s standards. 

Salbatora pressed a button on her phone. “Liz, please come in and show Thea where she’ll be working.”

“Right away.” Came a reply. 

Thea swayed and held onto the edge of the desk. I got the job? 

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy working at LetSlip. You’ll be assigned a mentor for a few weeks.” 

Thea nodded. “Thank you.” 

“My pleasure. And don’t ever hesitate to come to me with any questions.” 

A knock came at the door and Liz entered with a clipboard. “Follow me, Thea. I’ll get you situated right away.”

Thea reached for her portfolio. “Bye.” She waved to Salbatora, but the CEO of LetSlip stood next to the painting on the wall and stared at it in utter fascination with a bemused smile lighting up her face. 

An icy shiver slid down Thea’s spine, but she ignored it attributing the sensation to the Arctic temperature of the room. 

~*~

Thea sat in the small cubicle Liz assigned to her and ran a shaky hand over the cover of the brand-new laptop on the desk. Taking a deep breath, she opened the laptop, turned it on, and began the process of signing in. 

Seeing her mother’s painting in the office of the CEO continued to disturb her. The gallery who sold her mother’s work catered to corporate offices because those buyers paid well, so it made perfect sense for the artwork to be on that wall. Yet, it seemed a rather odd twist of fate that this is where Thea landed a job.

She checked inside the drawers of the desk as the computer took its time devouring her information. Working at a publication famous for gossip wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she graduated. Publishing articles about celebrity gossip didn’t sit right with her conscience either, but LetSlip’s salary turned out to be more generous than she expected. At the moment, money was what mattered the most. Besides, no other company seemed interested in her. Other businesses wanted someone with more experience. 

Unease wound through her. Once, her mother had been a famous screen actress, but she gave up her career to raise Thea in the anonymity of the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. No one ever suspected Althea Ahern was the famous, Oscar-winning Paris Hulette. 

Over the years, her mother’s royalties dwindled to a sad pittance, but Mom’s paintings sold on a regular basis and all was well until the awful time when Mom stopped painting. A lump welled up in Thea’s throat. She pressed her lips together to keep the emotion at bay. This job at LetSlip was a blessing. Since she prayed fervently for help, LetSlip must be the answer to her prayers. 









 



 

 

Thursday, August 22, 2024

Sunday Scenes: CLEAR AS ICE

Settle down on Sunday with an excerpt from my Christmas novella. It is currently on sale for $1.99 on Amazon until the end of August. However, if you are subscribed to Kindle Unlimited it is always free. If you have a library card, you can get the Hoopla app and read the book for free. At any rate, it is very inexpensive entertainment.  One Amazon customer said, "...uplifting, but suspenseful... Mrs. Marzec once again delivers a story demonstrating God's power of restoration and love."  

😁

To everything there is a season---a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.
~ Ecclesiastes 3:4

1

     Haylie’s pulse raced with a combination of fear and excitement as she parked her car by the gully. She got out and swung her skates over her shoulder. The ice on Destiny Lake appeared as smooth as the screen of her laptop. In this corner of central New Jersey, a cold front swept in only one week before Christmas. The lake froze solid.
     Not another soul appeared to have ventured out yet on this early morning and that was perfect. Haylie didn’t want anyone else to witness her halting, miserable performance on the ice—not that anyone she knew lived here anymore. When Superstorm Sandy destroyed billions of dollars’ worth of property, many—like her parents—left their destroyed homes. New people with money, bought the property at rock bottom prices and built new homes raised on tall pilings.
     She walked down the hill through the gully along the well-worn, easy sloping path formed by generations of Fortune Beach youngsters. It warmed her to discover the old trail survived the storm’s devastation.
     At the edge of the lake, the blackened evidence of a small fire touched a sad place inside her. Memories of the times she sat by a fire in the same place rushed into her mind. Those days, which were filled with promise, would never return.
     She pressed her lips together. She was here to conquer the old memories and build new, hopeful ones that couldn’t be crushed or broken—or washed away.
     A large, convenient log lay nearby. Haylie sat, put on her skates, and pulled the laces tight. Though aware her ankles would ache after a few turns, she didn’t care. Seven years ago her world fell apart, but she intended to put it back together as much as possible— and that included skating on this lake. She wasn’t going to skate in an arena and win awards anymore, but she came to realize she needed to skate as much as she needed to breathe.
     It all started at Destiny Lake. She glanced toward the new red house sitting at the top of the hill, and her eyes misted. That house stood in the same spot where her family home used to be until the storm came and the water undermined it. The house was condemned and torn down. Her parents now lived in subsidized senior housing because they had lost everything.
     She turned her gaze back to the frozen lake. She now lived in an apartment two miles away, and if she was thrifty, she could save for a down payment on a house. She hoped to buy one overlooking the lake where her own skating arena would always be available as long as the weather cooperated. She dreamed of placing floodlights on the house so she could direct the beams toward the lake and skate after dark.
     When Christmas came, she intended to host a skating party. She’d put lights in every window of her house as well. She would plant a fir tree in the yard and string lights on it. She’d invite friends to join her in singing Christmas carols and she’d serve hot chocolate and cookies.
     Her glorious fantasy crumbled. The problem with her grand scheme was her lack of friends. There were none from her skating days. After her accident, they all disappeared. The rest of her school friends vanished after years of neglect when she became a virtual prisoner living in a state of perpetual panic from the stress of being stalked by Bret Rounder.
     She inched onto the ice muttering. "I’m over it now." She studied the surface to make sure there were no obstacles—nothing that would catch the blade of her skate and trip her. One broken femur in her life was enough, but she refused to stop doing what she loved. She would skate again. Not professionally, but for fun. For the joy it evoked once upon a time before her life became one long disaster.
     She pushed off and warmed up by gliding along, not going very fast, but seeking a smooth even stroke. The stinging air bit into her cheeks, but she didn’t care. She focused on her balance and the path ahead of her. The lake wasn’t large, but several smaller coves made it much more interesting than going around in circles at an arena.
     A small amount of confidence restored her earlier trepidation. All the skill remained despite her years away. She didn’t intend to try anything daring or dangerous. No jumps. She wanted to slide along as she did when she was young. To be as free as one of the gulls that whirled in the sky.
     She swung around and dug in the toe pick of her skate to stop. She almost laughed as she recalled how her coach continually reprimanded her over and over about the proper and professional way to stop. But even her coach had abandoned Haylie after the accident.
     "I’m here to have fun," Haylie spoke out loud to the wind. Her words echoed in the still air. A shiver ran along her shoulders. She turned around. Was someone watching her?
     She shook herself mentally. What nonsense. If someone stared at her from a window it didn’t matter. She was nobody now.
     Her ankles protested after several more minutes, so she headed back to the gully, but she promised herself she’d do a backward crossover for a short distance before quitting. Taking in a calming breath, she held out her arms and pushed off. She smiled as her soul filled to the brim with the glory of the morning. The ice was all hers and hers alone.
     That’s when the loud bark of a dog startled her.
     "Rufus! Come!" The deep voice of a man echoed over the lake.
     She stopped and turned. A large black dog ran towards her. Her pulse jumped. She didn’t trust dogs. Bitten on the lip when she was young, she shied away from dogs ever since. Could she skate faster than the dog could run?
    "Rufus! Come!"
     She glanced at the hill where a man climbed down, grabbing handholds on bushes and trees.
The dog, Rufus, didn’t stop or pay any attention to the shouted command but dashed toward her at a mad pace. She willed herself to be calm. She thought of possible ways to avoid an attack. She wore a thick down jacket and a pair of heavy leggings beneath her jeans. If the dog bit her, he’d get a mouth full of fabric first.
     Ten feet away from her, the dog lost his footing on the slick ice. He let out a cry as he fell on his side and slid—and kept sliding. His couldn’t pull himself up. She moved in time to avoid a collision as the dog went sailing past her.
     The dog cried pitifully as he drifted toward the opposite shore of the lake. She hoped he wasn’t injured but helping a wounded animal could be dangerous.
     Meanwhile, the man descending the hill reached the bottom and started running and sliding across the ice.
     "Hey! Miss! Could you grab Rufus’s collar for me?" he called out.
     "Does he bite?" she shouted out the question. It echoed in the air. She guessed what the answer would be. The owner of the dog who bit her when she was young claimed her dog never bit anyone. But he bit her.
     "Of course not!" The minute the words were out of his mouth, both of his feet went out from under him and he landed flat on his back.
     Shocked into action, Hailey pulled the phone from her pocket and skated toward him. When she reached him, he was staring up at the sky with eyes as blue as the heaven above. She’d never seen a man with eyes of such an intense color. She gazed in surprise for a moment until he turned his head toward her.
     "Sir, should I call 911?" she asked.
     "No." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don’t. I’ll never hear the end of it."
     "Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?"
     He opened his eyes and held up a leash. "Would you please fetch Rufus? He won’t hurt you. I promise."
     "What if he’s injured? Wounded animals bite."
     The man’s mouth turned down in a frown. "You’re afraid of dogs."
     "Yes," she admitted.
     He sighed, rolled over, and gingerly managed to get to his feet.
     "Don’t run," she advised. "Walk slowly."
     "Did you see which way he went?"
     "He slid that way." She pointed in the general direction. "There’s another little cove there with lots of marsh reeds."
     "Would you mind accompanying me in case I fall again." His penetrating blue eyes gazed into hers.
     She swallowed hard. Tall and handsome, the man’s chiseled features spoke of strength, but a touch of gentleness lingered around his mouth. Usually, meeting any stranger would put her on edge, but this man did not cause that reaction in her. Had he hypnotized her with his eyes?
     She switched her gaze to the distant marsh reeds. "Actually, I was afraid I would fall when I came out here. It’s been a while since I’ve been skating."
     "You seemed to be doing fine." He took firm but cautious steps on the ice.
     "Were you watching me?" Her pulse began to race with anxiety. She’d skated in front of thousands of people in countless arenas, but this was different. This man could be some sort of stalker—like the one who drove her half crazy. She sensed someone was watching her and she was right. It was him!
     "Rufus was watching you." He shrugged his shoulders. "He barked and insisted I come to the window. I watched for a minute until I remembered I forgot to put out the garbage can for pickup. When I opened the door, Rufus ran out. I guess he really wanted to meet you."
     "Oh." She whispered. Her suspicions were groundless. Once, countless adoring fans cheered for her. Now the only one intrigued with her was a dog. "I hope he’s okay."
     "Me, too." With a somber note in his voice, he continued. "I need that dog far more than he needs me."
     Haylie couldn’t understand why anyone would need a pet. Pets involved a great deal of time and expense. She never owned a pet—of any kind. Not even a goldfish. Her parents’ biggest expense was her and all that expense came to nothing. Guilt remained heavy on her shoulders.
     "I got bit once—right on my lip. The scar is here." She stopped skating and pointed to it.
     His very cold finger touched her lip. Despite his icy skin, a little spark ignited inside her. "Plastic surgery?"
     "Yes," she admitted, a little shaken with the odd sensation coursing through her. Her coach had recommended the surgery. Everything needed to be perfect. Her face, her hair, her outfits, her routine. The pressure was constant. She didn’t miss that at all. But she missed skating. Without it, even on sunny days, clouds hovered in her thoughts.
     As they rounded the corner, they spotted Rufus. He cried and struggled weakly to right himself.
Guilt pricked her conscience. Still, dogs couldn’t be trusted due to their large teeth. Some men couldn’t be trusted either, but the majority of them were as ordinary as her dad. At least, that’s what the counselor tried to drum into her head.
     "Probably hypothermia." The man knelt beside his dog, whipped off his coat, wrapped the dog in it, and hoisted the animal in his arms.
     "Hey," Haylie warned. "You’ll be an icicle in minutes."
     "He’s disoriented. I’ll get him to the vet right away."
     "I’m really sorry." There wasn’t much more she could say.
     "Please stay with me until I get to solid ground."
     "Of course." It was the least she could do. "By the way, there’s an easier path through the gully to get up the hill."
     "Thanks. I’ll try that. Rufus weighs sixty pounds."
     "Should a dog weigh that much?" The memory of all the treats she’d been denied in order to compete never left her.
     "It depends on the breed."
     "I never owned a pet. They’re expensive and time consuming." With her rigorous schedule, she never had time for anything except skating. Yet, she was the one who wanted it. She enjoyed the competition—then.
     "What do you do?"
     "I’m a physical therapist."
     "Even a physical therapist has the time and moneyfor a pet."
     She clenched her teeth to prevent herself from blurting out her life story. This was her new beginning. While circumstances forced it upon her, despite the obstacles she managed to succeed.
She struggled for calm. He didn’t realize all she endured.
     When they reached the gully, she stopped. "I need to change back into my shoes, but I’ll pray for Rufus’s recovery."
     "That won’t do any good," he muttered as he hurried up the path with his burden.


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