Guest Post: TREADING WATER: BARELY ABOVE WATER by Gail Pallotta

My guest today is Gail Pallotta. She is a wife, Mom, swimmer and bargain shopper who loves God, beach sunsets and getting together with friends and family. She’s a former Grace Awards finalist, Reader’s Favorite Book Award winner, TopShelf Book Awards Finalist and a Top Author pick. She’s published ten books, poems, short stories and several hundred articles. Some of her articles appear in anthologies while two are in museums. A people person, she enjoys connecting with readers. She puts out a newsletter about her books as well as those of friends, includes a recipe and a giveaway. Sign up for her newsletter at https://www.gailpallotta.com/mainphp.html and visit her website at gailpallotta.com

Her latest release is Treading Water, the revised edition of Barely above Water. Here’s what it’s about: 

Suzie Morris suffers a sense of isolation and loneliness when she’s struck with an illness her physician can’t diagnose. Without family, she’s on her own. To make matters worse, her boyfriend dumps her. Relying on her Christian faith, she moves to Destin, Florida, to get treatment from an alternative doctor. After she lands a temporary job coaching a fun, county-sponsored rag-tag swim team, her handsome boss, Matt Combs, renews her belief in love. However, when Matt learns of Suzie’s medical problem, he cuts romantic ties. Recently saddened by the illness and death of his mother, he fears he couldn’t face another loss. Later he regrets his decision and tries to make amends. Hope for healing flickers inside Suzie when she hears of new remedies, but will the latest discoveries work for her? If she recovers, can Matt regain her trust?

This book is FREE on August 25, 2026. Now read the excerpt!

    Suzie fidgeted in her chair three months later as she sat in an office in Destin, Florida. A door shut, and she jumped. She took a deep breath and pulled back her shoulders. She would appear confident and calm, God willing. She had to steady her right hand. The interviewer would probably offer to shake it.

    A man entered and walked to her, his broad shoulders taking over the room. “Matt Combs. Sorry I’m late. I hope you weren’t too bored sitting here.” He offered a handshake.
She peered at his squared, strong-looking extremity as she extended her hand as fast as she could. “I’m fine, thank you. It’s nice to meet you.” Had he detected the trembling? He didn’t stare at her hand. Guess not.

    As Mr. Combs situated himself, Suzie surveyed his office, getting a glimpse of who he was. A plaque for Outstanding Manager as head of the Okaloosa County Parks and Recreation Department hung on the wall alongside pictures of kids in bathing suits and soccer players in blue uniforms. A full trophy case sat next to his bookcase. She could get him another victory in spite of the sickness, if he’d give her a chance.

    The rollers on his black chair clicked as he pulled it to his metal desk. He pushed a pile of folders to one side then looked up with a sheepish grin. “I haven’t had a chance to clean. Harold Gubb, my assistant and the county bookkeeper, was out sick last week. I’m a little backed up.”
Suzie clenched a pencil in three fingers and released it, then repeated the action in her lap. She started the habit to check her strength after she’d lost twenty-five pounds. Now she did it when she was nervous. “You have a nice office.”

    Matt’s shoulders relaxed. “I suppose, as county cubicles at community centers go, it’s okay.” He waved his hand toward a desk in front of his. “Barely room for Harold when we’re both here, but I’m in the field quite a bit. We manage.” He retrieved a folder from the pile he’d just moved and studied it. “Ahh, I see you coached a swim team and won your division every year except your first. That’s quite an accomplishment.” He gazed at her with admiration in his eyes.

    Suzie scooted up as hope Matt Combs might hire her flickered in the back of her mind.
“You were in high school and college then. Now, you’re...” He glanced at her application, then sat back in his seat. “Twenty-five?” He arched an eyebrow. “Uh, most recently, you’ve worked as an editor of a community magazine in Blue Mountain, North Carolina. It says here you quit your job to move? Could I ask why?”

    Suzie recoiled at the suspicion in his voice. Carson would say she had to move because she was a druggie. Sad that his ridiculous opinion still upset her. She glanced at the three-quarter-length sleeve of her blouse. Before Carson broke up with her, he’d suggested she wear sufficient clothing to cover her skinny body. Dwelling on him wasn’t worth the hurt and ire that rose from recalling his degrading remark, but more importantly she couldn’t let anything distract her. She had to have this job. She swallowed hard. Play the game.

Buy link:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/1972624210

On Sale at Smashwords Summer Sale!

HALF PRICE for Outside Blessings during the Smashwords Summer Sale. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1775506 Use the coupon or the code and you'll pay only 1.49! From a review on Amazon, "...a captivating story set against the backdrop of a raging sea and the age old battle of good against evil."

 

Adding To My Collection

A few weeks ago, I went to the annual AAWU book sale in Freehold. This event is held every year and the amount of books on sale is phenomenal. This year, I found some true treasures--at least in my point of view. I bought four Phyllis A. Whitney novels. I was so delighted! I already have six other books by Miss Whitney. In the past, I sometimes I gave them away, which I now regret. Each of her books are worth reading more than once. She was such a master at suspense, but also great with characterization and description. 

I often read ebooks, and I like them for their convenience. After all, I can pull out my phone and read a book anywhere. But I still find it a pleasure to sit down with a paper book on a rainy day and use a good old-fashioned book mark to tuck in the pages. 

When I first became serious about writing, I turned to a book by Phyllis Whitney on writing. That book was a great help to me. I wrote about it here. 

Do you have a favorite author? I have more than one. 😊 

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How Grandma Survived The Great Depression

My Wonderful Grandma 

     My grandmother raised seven children on a ten acre spread of sloping hilltop in western Pennsylvania during the Great Depression. My grandfather, a coalminer, built the house they lived in.     
     My grandmother had a garden and canned everything. There were chickens and a cow, but now and then my mother had to pick the buckshot out of animals killed for food. 
     Recently, I've seen many recipes on the Internet listing foods eaten during the Great Depression. All of these recipes are easy to make, inexpensive, and filling. I was surprised to realize that several of the meals my mother prepared on a regular basis were used during that era. So, I have to assume my mother learned them from her mother out of necessity.
     I considered those dishes "comfort food." My mother would make up a batch of tunafish, and peas in white sauce and I thought it was delicious. At a young age, it was usually my job to make the white sauce. I had to stir it carefully so it didn't burn until it was thickened. I always got the same task for pudding. (I included the mention of that job in Love’s Gift.) In fact, white sauce was useful in extending many meals. My mom used it with green beans and bacon, too, which is considered an Appalachian favorite. Since my grandparents lived close to the West Virginia line, that isn’t a surprise. 
    Another filling, inexpensive meal was Lima beans and breakfast sausage. It may also be a classic Appalachian meal from what I’ve read. I really enjoyed it. My grandma never used written recipes. She memorized them in her head. My mother actually owned a cookbook, The Good Housekeeping Cook Book. At the time of my mother's death, that book had no covers and the index was gone as well. Nevertheless, anyone could see which recipes were my mother's favorites by the stains or dough on the pages. None of the meals in that book were the ones she made by memory, just as her mother did--the ones that fed a family of nine and didn't cost much. 

    I love to try new recipes, but those old ones from the past still have a special place in my heart. Does your family cook any recipes that came from the Great Depression?

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Em Dash Abuse

I am an em dash abuser. I tend to use the quick symbol all over the place. I type in em dashes wherever a comma would suffice. Sigh.

In The Elements of Style, Strunk and White said, "A dash is a mark of separation stronger than a comma, less formal than a colon, and more relaxed than parentheses."

I think my em dash habit is due--in part--to the way I speak. I speak in em dashes!

I have a few examples from The Keeper's Promise below. You see how I originally typed each phrase and how I fixed them.

This was why Bryce loved Shucker's Point--why he had stayed here when many others had left.

It now reads:

This was why Bryce loved Shucker's Point, and why he had stayed here when many others had left.

Sometimes I didn't really need the em dash at all.

that she wasn't a vicious killer--or a psychopath.

Just one simple conjunction works fine:

that she wasn't a vicious killer or a psychopath.

Everyone needs an editor. I have been very grateful for mine.

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Needing a Rom-Com?

 

Reading a romantic comedy at the beach is the best way to spend your time in the sun. At least, that's what I would do. So I wrote one.

One reviewer said, "...lovable characters with a constant flow of miscommunication, misunderstanding, and misadventures. Result: a cute, fun read." You can get it free with Kindle Unlimited but it also comes in a paperback, which is better for beach reading. 

    Find it here:  https://www.amazon.com/Daddy-Wanted-Penelope-Marzec/dp/1522398058

Be safe in the sand.

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My Memorial Day Wish

It never ceases to amaze me that the human race has survived this far. For one thing, earth is not a stable environment. Tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, volcanoes, mudslides, sinkholes, and fires threaten us on a regular basis. Our precarious situation is made even worse by war. Billions of dollars are being used to kill other human beings as countries regularly drop bombs on each other. 

Meanwhile there's the threat of disease. Hantavirus and Ebola are frightening illnesses. Not enough money is spent on finding ways to prevent the spread of these horrible plagues. Not enough money is spent on research to discover vaccines to eradicate these afflictions.

Yet, with clear threats to the entire globe, many people continue to argue and blame each other for the problems. 

Why can't we get along? Why can't we have peace?

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The Promise of Beach Plums

 Hubby and I went to Sandy Hook just in time to see the beach plums blossoming. In order to have beach plums, we need pollinators. So, I was delighted to see this bumble bee helping out the process. Beach plums are not very big--about the size of a grape, though not as sweet. But the fruit makes a very tasty jam. Of course, other animals like beach plums. For instance, the herds of deer on Sandy Hook enjoy the fruit, too. 

Hopefully, there will be a few beach plums for me to nibble on come fall. But simply seeing the white blossoms all over the Hook was a cheerful site. Kudos to the bees, too. 

LOVE’S GIFT Is the Winner!

LOVE’S GIFT was the First Place Winner in the historical category of the NJ Romance Writers’ Golden Leaf contest. I joined the NJ Romance Writers way back in 1988, when I didn’t know much about writing a book. I learned quite a bit over the years. So, I am grateful to NJRW for helping me along in my publishing journey. 

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The Way Mom Made Pysanky Eggs

 My grandmother was Slovak and my grandfather was Czech. So, my mother dyed Easter eggs in her own Slavic way. At Easter she used a straight pin pushed into the eraser, dipped the head of the straight pin into the hot wax of  a candle, and applied the wax to an egg. Then she dyed the egg. Once the egg dried, she applied more wax and dipped the egg into another dye. There are special wax pens, called kistka, that apply the wax in a more efficient manner. But Mom always used the straight pin stuck into an eraser to do the job. Also, Mom never followed any specific pattern. She was an artist and enjoyed making up her own designs.

I’ve continued to use Mom’s rudimentary approach to decorating eggs for Easter. My daughters usually join me in this endeavor. It’s a slow process that leaves ample time for talk. So, while our eggs are not the fanciest pysanky eggs, they are made with care, following an old tradition. Also, we don’t blow out the inside of the eggs. We eat the boiled eggs. 😁

How do you dye eggs? What are your Easter traditions?

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My Contest Winning Books

Reviews are very important to all authors. A positive review can help to convince someone to buy a book.  There will always be negative reviews, but those are often outweighed by the many readers who appreciated the story.

Contests are helpful in selling books as well as long as the contests are reputable ones. Several of my books have been winners or finaled in contests, which is why I call myself an award-winning author--because I am. 

The first book of mine that was published, SEA OF HOPE, won the 2002 EPPIE Award Winner for Best Inspirational Novel.

HEAVEN'S BLUE was an EPPIE Award Winner for Best Inspirational Fiction.

PATRIOT'S COURAGE won the NEST Award (National Excellence in Story Telling) for Best Inspirational. 

THE COWBOY'S MIRACLE won third place in the Ancient City Romance Writers' Heart of Excellence Readers' Choice Award and was named a finalist in the EPIC eBook Awards. 

LOVE'S GIFT is a finalist for the Golden Leaf Award from the New Jersey Romance Writers.

THE KEEPER'S PROMISE was an EPPIE finalist for Inspiration Fiction in 2009. (This book was later released as THE KEEPER'S SECRET by Prism Lux in 2024.

IRONS IN THE FIRE was awarded Best Small Press Paranormal in the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Awards.

Those are the accolades for several of my books. However, there are far more reviews than awards. Most of my books are very inexpensive and some are available with Kindle Unlimited. Many are also available for free from Hoopla and Libby library apps. 

Take some time off and read a good book! 

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The Salt Mine

 Way back in 1973, I signed up for the Summer Study in Italy course, which was offered through Trenton State College—now The College of New Jersey. (I really hate it when colleges change their names.) A colleague of mine suggested the tour because she went on it and loved every moment of it. I signed up, saved my money, and when June came I flew off to France with the tour group. The course included six weeks in Italy, but there was initially a week in Paris and at the end of the tour, a week in Munich. 

The photo above was taken on that last week in Germany when we went down into a salt mine. Everyone donned special protective clothing and boarded a small train. The salt mine was large and to me, it smelled salty. 😆 It was a fun way to end our time together. After eight weeks, we all knew each other quite well. 

I took two courses on that trip, an art history course and a watercolor course. The credits transferred toward the graduate degree I was pursuing at Jersey City State College—now the New Jersey City University. (Why did they have to change the name?) 

It was the first time I was away from home for such a long amount of time and I was homesick for a while—until my cousin wandered into town. He was touring Europe that summer, too, and his mother instructed him to visit me. He showed me the letter she wrote to him as proof.😂

I brought my guitar with me, but also discovered the residenza where we stayed in Florence had a piano in the basement. I bought a crochet hook when we landed in Paris. LOL! Some things about me never change. Obviously, I had homework but I enjoy being busy all the time. I wasn’t writing any books at the time though I wrote many, many letters home. The internet hadn’t been invented and phone calls were practically impossible. I still have all the letters. Those are a real treasure to me. 

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I Did It!!!

I did it again! I wrote 30,000 words in the month of February on my current Work-In-Progress for the JeRoWriMo challenge. I still don’t have a name for the book but it is set in 1918 in New Jersey, which is one of my favorite places. 😊

The JeRoWritMo Challenge is a wonderful way to focus on writing. There are cheerleaders who acknowledge each writer’s success in typing out the words every day. It’s a wonderful way to push through and get the words down. 

I am very grateful to the New Jersey Romance Writers for hosting this challenge. 

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LOVE’S GIFT IS A FINALIST!

LOVE’S GIFT is a finalist in the NJ Romance Writers’ Golden Leaf Awards! I am thrilled. 🤩 

https://www.amazon.com/Loves-Gift-Penelope-Marzec-ebook/dp/B0D49BZ5P4 

 

Do You Like Snow?

We are supposed to have a significant snowstorm. We have stocked up on food. We have battery lanterns and wood for the fireplace in case we lose power. I am not looking forward to digging out.

When I was young, I used to love snow. School would close and I could go sledding and make snowmen. I loved ice skating. I'd shovel the snow off the ice and have my personal skating rink. I tried skiing in my twenties, but it was an expensive hobby because more often than not, there wasn't enough snow in this part of NJ.

I don't ever remember being cold.

Then I grew up. Snowstorms create problems. Now I worry. I worry about my nearest and dearest driving in the snow. I worry about heavy ice on tree limbs. I worry about slipping on the ice. 

Nevertheless, falling snow is still pretty to see. I like the quiet that settles on the neighborhood as sound is muffled by the soft coating. I still find it magical to wake up and see a world of glittering diamond dust on all the trees and bushes. 

I always study the snowflakes on the sleeve of my coat and on my mittens to see if each one is really unique. I take photographs of the snow even though I have to put on extra layers of clothing so I don't feel the cold as much. 

Waiting for the snow to stop is also a great time to read books. 

But then the storm ends. The peace of the neighborhood ends, too, as snowblowers, plows, and shovels struggle to move the white stuff out of the way. 

Stay safe everyone. 

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Reflecting

      I took this photo in one of our local parks on a cloudy but mild day. Without any wind, the lake became a mirror, reflecting everything perfectly. I was sitting on a bench opposite the one in the photo and doing some mental reflecting. My oldest daughter gave me a very lovely notebook for Christmas. When I'm writing a book, I usually type out the story. I can type much faster than I can write by hand. However, I decided to use the notebook for reflections of the past. Life was very different in the 1950s when I was a child growing up in a small neighborhood. Maybe someday my granddaughter would be interested in reading about my experiences. Of course, I'll be writing in cursive so I hope she learns how to decipher my flowing script. 😄

     But I'll still be typing out another book, too. I've entered the JeRoWriMo challenge again in hopes of writing out 30,000 words in the month of February. Wish me luck. 

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Guest Post: THE SECRET INGREDIENT by Kirsten Clark

My guest today is Kirsten Clark. She developed a deep and abiding love for stories at a young age, and has been plotting how to become an author ever since. When not writing sweet romances, she can be found in the classroom teaching at her local college, curled up with a cup of coffee and a good book, or baking chocolate cake while listening to podcasts. A graduate of the Universities of Alberta and British Columbia, she lives in Alberta, Canada with her husband and two children, who keep her on her toes.

     Kirsten's latest release is The Secret Ingredient. It's about the Holy Grounds shop which runs on two things: the nutty, caramel scent of coffee and Sebastien Davenport's beloved cranberry-gingerbread muffins.

     When the pastry chef collapses days before Christmas, owner Bridgette Calloway faces an impossible morning rush and an even harder truth: the beloved chef she's leaned on may need her more than ever.
     When a frightening diagnosis upends Seb's independence and he's at his lowest, it's his boss he finds himself calling. Perhaps she's more than a boss after all… Bridgette shows up with a Bible, Chinese takeout, and the solid courage he didn't know he needed. In the hush of winter and a kitchen dusted with flour and light, their friendship warms into something deeper. But fear, pride, and new limitations could cost them more than a holiday menu.
     As carols ring and candlelight glows, Bridgette and Seb are thrust into uncharted territory and must make a choice. Will they retreat into safety, or put their trust in the God who writes love stories in unexpected places like a coffee sleeve, a baker's bench, and prayer whispered over racks of cooling pastries?

Now for an excerpt! Enjoy!

     Bridgette pulled a pan of muffins from the oven before silencing a blaring alarm. “Iris, the tops are pointy. Again.”

     Iris didn't speak but wrinkled her nose as she joined Bridgette in the kitchen, inspecting the latest batch.

     “I must’ve overmixed the batter.” Bridgette sucked in a breath in a futile attempt to hold back the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I, I...I made sure to weigh the flour and to set the oven properly to temperature, and I even used a timer for the stand mixer and these darn muffin tops still came out looking like mountains!”

     “I see that,” Iris said mildly, knotting a forest green apron around her hips before turning to wash her hands in the shiny industrial sink. “Sebastien never overmixes the batter,” she shot over her shoulder.

     Bridgette swallowed a sigh, resigning herself to the incoming tears. Iris was...Iris. A cosmetology student with purple hair. Chunky silver necklaces. Thick eyeliner. And she was also right. Seb’s muffins always came out perfect. What was she going to do?

     Bridgette pulled up the bottom of her apron, wiping her eyes. Crying was OK. She was only human after all. But, she thought, clacking a perfectly manicured nail on the shiny metal counter, she also had a job to do. Bridgette allowed a pause, holding up a hand to admire the sparkles in her latest manicure. The garnet has been a good choice this time. Very Christmassy. She shook her head as if to clear cobwebs. No, no time for pretty things. Focus.

     Because even without Sebastien, Bridgette had to have baking to offer her customers. When the usual crowd walked through her front door they expected to be greeted with the nutty, caramel scent of coffee and—in December—the warm spiciness of Seb’s famous cranberry gingerbread muffins, just as much as they expected catchy worship music playing over the speakers and Bible verses on their drink sleeves. The muffins were an integral part of what made Holy Grounds, well, Holy Grounds.

One reviewer called this story, "...an enjoyable and heartwarming story that proves God still answers prayer."

Visit Kirsten's website at: https://www.kirstenclarkauthor.com/

Get your copy of THE SECRET INGREDIENT now at:

Amazon 

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Guest Post: Crocuses For Christmas by Carol James

 

      My guest today is Carol James, an Air Force brat. The longest Carol ever lived in one place was a year and a half. Maybe that’s why, when she and her husband bought their first home forty-two years ago, they stayed put. She lives in Lilburn, GA with her husband, Jim, and a perky Jack Russell Terrier, Zoe.

     Loving intriguing stories with happy endings, she writes Redemptive Romance. She has had five full length novels and five Christmas novellas published. Her debut novel, Rescuing Faith, was an Amazon number one best-seller. Visit her website to sign up for her newsletter and get a free short story: https://www.carol-james.com
     When she’s not walking Zoe, Carol enjoys spending time with her husband, children, and grandchildren, as well as traveling. On Sundays, she loves serving in the production department at her church. And most days, in the late hours of the night, you’ll find her bringing her newest novel to life.

Carol's latest release is CROCUSES FOR CHRISTMAS. What's it about? Read this: 

     When Matthew Dawson loses his wife in an automobile accident, he struggles to raise his three-year-old daughter, Emma, alone. He decides to hire a live-in nanny to take care of Emma, when he returns to work.

      Matt asks the principal of Emma’s school for recommendations, and she suggests Hannah Collins. Hannah is a highly-experienced nanny who has recently moved to Crescent Bluff from the United Kingdom.

      When Matt interviews Hannah, he knows she’s perfect for the position. But he’s concerned about Emma’s reaction. After Hannah and Emma meet each other, Matt makes Hannah an offer. Not only does Hannah immediately fall in love with Emma, she’s attracted to Matt and hopes to help this sweet family heal from their loss.

     The more Matt and Hannah are around each other, the more they become attracted to one another and must make some difficult choices for their futures. When Christmas nears, the crocuses in Matt’s yard bloom early as a sign of hope, new life, joy, and new beginnings.

 

Now for an excerpt from this wonderful story!

     Matthew Dawson held his wife in his arms and tickled her face and neck with kisses. If he didn’t have to work today, he’d stay here in their haven with the love of his life beside him. The only woman he’d ever loved. The only woman he ever would. He groaned. Any second now, the alarm on his phone would play their song, the singer declaring she would always love her sweetheart. As he would always love his sweet Natalie.

      Their song floated from the radio on his nightstand and filled their room. He slipped his hand to the other side of the bed. The smooth, cool fabric of the sheets met his touch. As reality set in, he opened his eyes and jerked himself up. He’d been dreaming. The space beside him was empty. The sheets unruffled. The pillow smooth. No Natalie. Not today…not last night…not ever again.

      “Matt.” Mom’s voice crept up the stairs, piercing his mournful solitude, reminding him this was not a dream. “Breakfast’ll be ready in a few minutes.” He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life in bed. 

      After easing back the covers, he struggled to sit up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood, ready to perform his morning ritual, and then trudged to her closet and opened the door. He stepped inside, turned on the light, and buried his face in her pink dress. Her scent still lingered, but as each day passed, its strength faded a little more. Before long, it would be gone. Just like she was.

      He left the closet and padded down the hallway. He paused at Emma’s door and eased it closed until only a crack remained. Large enough to hear her if she cried out, but small enough to muffle most of the morning noise…although she’d never had a problem sleeping. She might look like her mother, but she slept like him. Or at least, the way he used to.

      The bottom stair creaked as he stepped into the entry hall. He’d promised Nat he’d fix it. But he never had. He’d always assumed he’d have time. Later. But time wasn’t a bank account where he could deposit more funds to increase his balance and withdraw some to use when his cache ran low.

      If he’d known then what he knew now, he’d have taken advantage of every moment. He’d have worked less and played more. He’d have travelled less and worked from the office or from home more. He’d learned the hard way that life was about where you invested your time…not your money.

You can find Carol's website at: https://www.carol-james.com/

Crocuses for Christmas can be found at: 

Amazon 

Barnes&Noble 

Kobo 

 

Apple Books

Pelican Book Group

Guest Post: CHESTER'S MIRACLE by M. Jean Pike

My guest today is a New York girl who fell in love with Ohio, M. Jean Pike writes about love and life in small town America. The author of twelve Christian romance and inspirational women’s fiction novels, Jean combines an insatiable curiosity about human nature with her Christian faith to bring readers unforgettable tales of life, love, and the inner workings of the human heart. 

Her latest release is a Christmas novella, CHESTER'S MIRACLE. Here's the blurb: 

What if the wrong turn leads to the love you've always prayed for? Aimee dreams of love, but her small Ohio town offers little hope. Until she meets Max online. His charm sweeps her off her feet, and she agrees to meet him for a Christmas Eve service in the West Virginia mountains. But before she leaves, she rescues Chester, a senior service dog facing euthanasia, and brings him along for the ride. When a blizzard strands her on a mountain road, Aimee's fairytale date turns into a nightmare: Max's number is disconnected, his profile deleted, and her car is buried in snow. Cold, scared, and alone, she prays for a miracle—only to be found by Marty, a kind-hearted mountain man with a heart as warm as the fire in his cabin. Marty's been praying for love. But Aimee's been burned, and trust doesn't come easy, even when Chester works his own kind of magic. As Christmas unfolds, Aimee must decide: Is Marty the answer to prayer, or is she too afraid to take a leap of faith? A heartwarming Christian romance about trust, divine timing, and miracles that find us when we least expect them. Perfect for fans of holiday love stories, rescue dogs, and mountain men who believe in second chances.

 

That sounds wonderful! Now read an excerpt.

She inched up the slippery hill, up and up and up. Dusk had given way to winter dark, and Aimee’s hands and feet felt frozen solid. Removing one hand from the wheel, she nudged up the heat. When her glance returned to the road, she gasped. An animal stood by the shoulder, poised to dart in front of her. A large dog or a small deer. It was too dark to tell. Detecting motion in her headlights, she pressed the brakes. 

It turned out it was neither a dog or a deer, but by the time she made out the outline of the rotted tree, what she’d thought were ears were just small, jagged limbs. Her car was spinning again, sliding off the road and down the side of the hill. She braced for a crash, but heard only a dull thunk, as the car bumped to a stop. 

Chester slid to the floor. 

“Oh, Chester!” She groped for him and pulled him into her lap, cradling him close. “I’m so sorry. Are you OK?” 

He answered with a slobbery kiss on her cheek. 

“I got us stuck, but I know a trick,” Aimee told him. She put the car in reverse and pressed the gas, then eased it into drive. Forward and back, forward and back as she’d been taught in Driver’s Ed class years before. The wheels spun, tossing snow like confetti as the car burrowed deeper into the ground.

 Forward and back, forward and back. The headlights dimmed and went dark. The radio fell silent as the car sputtered and died.

 “I think we’re out of gas.” Tears fell again. “Lord, I’m in a jam, and I don’t know what to do.” 

She fumbled for the phone. Even without a signal she should be able to call 911, wasn’t that how it worked? “OK, Chester. I’m calling for help. Someone will be here any minute.” 

Except the call did not go through. She checked her phone again for signal strength. Not even one bar. Great. 

Lord please help me. You’re the only one who can…

She sat there in the dark, desperately trying to think through her situation. She could get out and walk, but to where? She hadn’t seen civilization in miles. And besides that, it was bitter out and she had no socks or gloves. She and Chester would freeze to death. Or they could freeze in the comfort of the car. 

Lord, I need a miracle. I need an angel…

She’d heard of people dying of hypothermia in situations like this. Simply falling asleep and not waking up. She sang every Christmas carol she could recall, anything to stay awake for just a moment more. After some time had passed, her throat was raw and her teeth chattered nonstop. She felt the calm of sleep overtaking her.

 The whine of an engine broke the silence, and the soft glow of approaching light flashed across her windshield. A pair of snowmobiles slowed, and then stopped on the ridge above her. Two figures disembarked, one very large, the other, very small.

In the light of their headlamps, the larger of the two scrambled down the incline, coming fast toward Aimee’s car. After a moment, the beam of a flashlight lit his path. A man. He was enormous, with a dark beard, his hair dark and wild where it sprang from the sides of his hat. He looked like a mountain man and in her dazed state, Aimee didn’t know whether to be terrified or relieved. His muffled shout drifted to her through the closed window. Her frozen fingers couldn’t manage the door handle. 

Chester growled a warning deep in his throat. 

Aimee wanted to reassure the dog, but her teeth were chattering so hard, she couldn’t speak. 

The man’s face appeared outside her driver’s side window. 

Three things happened simultaneously. 

The man yanked open the door. 

Aimee screamed. 

And Chester bared his teeth, his growl becoming a ferocious bark as he sank his teeth into the man’s outstretched hand.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

This is a story you must read! It's on sale, too, for only $0.99! 

Warm up your holiday with this sweet read. 

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Health Care for All

Love is a beautiful thing. As Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13:7, "It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." 

This past weekend, I saw a newly married couple. They were so sweet. They didn't have a big wedding, though they might hold a gathering in the future. However, for now, the handsome groom is basically saving his bride's life because her medications are very expensive. 

I know of another couple who were in similar circumstances. She had cancer. He married her. They are living happily ever after. 

In this country, you don't have to be a knight in shining armor but you do need a decent health care plan. I pray our representatives will work toward getting health care for all in this country. 

💕💖💕💖💕