Cozy Christmas Reads: Gail's story

Excerpt from Mackinac Island Christmas by Gail Gaymer Martin:

Already Christmas decorations appeared wrapped around the old fashioned lamp posts and garland wound with Christmas lights loop along the shop eaves. The Island closed at the end of October, but that didn’t discourage visitors. Many enjoyed coming to the Island with fewer tourists and at a time that seemed more like a real town from the past—Victorian homes, horse and buggies, bicycles, and forts from the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812.

Her stomach growled as she admired the Mustang Lounge’s Christmas lights ahead of her and smiled with the thought of finding food. Since the lights were on, she assumed they were open. When she reached the door, lights inside greeted her, and she stepped into the warmth and the scent of food.

A waiter motioned to an empty table nearby, and she slipped off her jacket and hung it on the back of the chair before sinking into it. When the waiter handed her a menu, she perused her options and settled on a Mustang Chef Salad with ham and turkey and all the fixings. The waiter returned with a glass of water, a cup and carafe of coffee.

He eyed her, and she nodded. “Yes, regular black, and thanks. She ordered the salad, and then sipped the hot coffee as he headed away. Her gaze drifted to the old hewn wood walls and areas covered with logs, she guessed they had been cut from the Island trees. Much of the Island remained woods with dirt roads winding through to various historical locations. The only thing that ruined the moment was her concern for Carol.

A long sigh emptied her lungs, and she pulled out her phone again and hit Facebook. She scanned the messages of people she knew and most whom she didn’t but had accepted as friends. The idea made her grin. She lifted the coffee again, feeling the swirl of warmth rising from the cup and took another sip.

“Is this your jacket?”

She jumped, hearing someone behind her. When she turned, a man held up her jacket and arched his brow. “It was on the floor behind you.”

“Thanks. It’s mine.” She leaned forward as he lapped it over the seat back again. “I didn’t feel it fall, but then I was too intrigued with the history in this building.”

He moved around to her side. “It’s one of the oldest buildings on the Island. Dated to the 1780s, and I’ve heard it’s the oldest tavern in Michigan. That makes it very special, I’ve always thought.”

“The Island is very special. Obviously, I’m a tourist and though I’ve been on Mackinac Island many times, I’ve never been here in winter.” She extended her hand. “I’m Josie Ryan from Royal Oak. It’s a suburb of Detroit.”

“I know where it is. I’ve lived in Birmingham for years.” He grasped her fingers in his. “I’m Christopher Banks, but everyone calls me Chris.”

“Hi, Chris. Would you like to join me?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.” He grinned and slipped into a seat adjacent to hers. “Are you here alone?”

Her pulse jumped. “Not by choice. I’m supposed to meet a friend, but as you can see I am alone.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe he—”

“It’s a she.” Josie shook her head. “Carol’s a long-time friend who I haven’t seen in a few years, and we made these plans months ago, so I am at a loss. I keep worrying that something—”

“Lots of things can happen. She missed the ferry. She had a flat on the way, and it takes a while for someone to get to her on the freeway. It could be lots of things that—”

“I know. I keep telling myself the same thing, but it isn’t like her not to call.”

He patted her arm. “Just pray she’s okay and wait and see. I know you’re concerned but now you’ve been sort of stranded here, although—”

“Being alone isn’t really the problem. I can cut my vacation short, and I probably will, since I don’t know anyone—but I hate changing plans.”

“How about this? I’m here for a while visiting my granddad. He had been very ill but is doing much better now.”

“I’m glad he’s doing well.”

“Rather than leave, and have to make decisions, I’m a great Island guide. Gramps has lived here most of his life, and I spent the summers here and sometimes even came for Christmas, so I’m your man and I’m cheap.”

“I’d also love to be here for Christmas, but what’s your charge?”

He tilted his head and chuckled. “What is my charge? Zero. I love the Island and enjoy seeing everything again and again. I was teasing, but then you don’t know my sense of humor.”

~*~
Author bio: 

Best-selling and award-winning novelist of sweet and inspirational romance, Gail Gaymer Martin has 79 published novels and over four million books sold. 

Her novels have won numerous national awards, including: the ACFW Carol Award and two RT Reviewer’s Choice Award. She is the author of Writer Digest's Writing the Christian Romance and a founder of American Christian Fiction Writers. 

Gail is a keynote speaker at churches, civic and business organizations and a workshop presenter at conferences across the U.S. She lives with her husband Bob in Sedona, AZ. 

Readers may send mail to Gail via this address: 

P.O. Box 20054

Sedona, AZ 86341

~*~

Blurb for Mackinac Island Christmas: Josie Ryan arrives on Mackinac Island, looking forward to the Christmas season in the quaint setting with no automobiles and a back-in-time aura, but she learns that her longtime friend has to cancel her trip due to a family emergency. 

Disappointed, Josie decides to stay the day and then cancel her trip since it’s no fun being alone. But her plans change when Chris Barnes, visiting his grandfather, comes to her aid and offers to show her the sites. When she learns that Chris is raising his deceased brother’s child, she is touched. 

Amid snowball fights, snowmen, and snow angels, Josie’s life changes when she falls in love with the little girl, but Ellie wants a mommy. Even though Chris is a great guy with wonderful attributes, Josie has absolutely no plans to marry, or can this four-year-old change Josie’s plans.

~*~
Book Review of Mackinac Island Christmas, posted on Amazon:

"I enjoyed this book and stayed up all night to finish it! I fell in love with the characters and hope there is a sequel to it! I love Mackinac Island so this book brought back many memories."

~*~
Connect with Gail:
Website - http://www.gailgaymermartin.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/gail.g.martin.3
Twitter - https://twitter.com/GailGMartin
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83354.Gail_Gaymer_Martin
LinkedIn - https://www.linkedin.com/in/gailgaymermartin

~*~
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Cozy Christmas Reads: Donna's story

Christmas Under the Stars

A devotional by Donna Schlachter

“That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep.”~Luke 2:8 (NLT)

Sometimes we can sanitize the words in the Bible so much that we don’t get their true meaning. We do this all the time when we read of Job’s sufferings, of Joseph of the Old Testament while he was in prison, and even of Jesus and the crucifixion.

And yes, with the Christmas story.

Shepherds were the lowest of the low in Biblical times when it came to social position and the ability to rise to prominence in the community. We even see in the story of Joseph in Genesis that they didn’t sit with other people (the Egyptians made his brothers sit at a separate table), and the pharaoh suggested Joseph give them land away from everybody else.

And yet God chose to announce the birth of His Son to such ones as these.

What was He thinking? That we’re all outsiders when it comes to the Kingdom of Heaven? That we are all smelly and dirty before Jesus cleans us up? That we’re all in the dark?

Yes to all of the above.

As we think of the Christmas story this year, let’s pay attention to all the players—including those not welcome in the presence of a King—which would be all of us.

And let’s give thanks that we are now not only welcome, but encouraged to come in boldly.

~*~

Author bio:

Donna lives in Denver with husband Patrick, her first-line editor and biggest fan. She writes historical suspense under her own name, and contemporary suspense under her alter ego of Leeann Betts. 

She is a hybrid publisher who has published a number of books under her pen name and under her own name. 

She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Sisters In Crime; facilitates a local critique group, and teaches writing classes and courses. 

Donna is also a ghostwriter and editor of fiction and non-fiction, and judges in a number of writing contests. She loves history and research, and travels extensively for both. Donna is proud to be represented by Terrie Wolf of AKA Literary Management.

~*~

Blurb for Donna's book, Christmas Under the Stars:

November 1858, Utah Territory

Edie Meredith strives to keep her temper and her tongue under control as she heads west with her brother to California. Raised in an itinerant preacher family, she promises she will never marry a man of the cloth.

Tom Aiken, drover of the wagon train, longs to answer his true calling: to preach, and while he realizes not every woman would choose a preacher for a husband, he hopes to soon find his help-meet.

Suspicious ‘accidents’ plague their journey. Is someone trying to keep them from reaching their destination? Or will misunderstanding and circumstances keep them apart?

~*~

Connect with Donna:

Blog - www.HiStoryThruTheAges.wordpress.com

Website - www.HiStoryThruTheAges.com 

Facebook - www.Facebook.com/DonnaschlachterAuthor

Twitter - www.Twitter.com/DonnaSchlachter

Amazon - http://amzn.to/2ci5Xqq

~*~

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Cozy Christmas Reads: Allie's story

Excerpt from Chapter 1 of "A Brilliant Christmas" by Allie Pleiter

 I take a deep, expectant breath as I wander into my building's upstairs lobby. It's a quiet old room—full of big windows, overstuffed chairs, and afternoon sunshine. I imagine there was a time when this was called a "parlor" back in the day when a seventeen-story building marveled as a "skyscraper."

Warm sunshine greets me, but the promising solace and silence is broken by the presence of a large—no huge—green lizard.

What? Who left their miniature dragon out in the sun?

It's been one of those days. Actually, it's been one of those weeks, and I wanted some peaceful time to sit and knit in my favorite hiding spot. "Now there's something you don't see every day," I quip, mostly to hide my annoyance.

"A sunny day in Chicago in December?" a deep voice with a British accent calls from behind the high-backed chair that is usually my favorite perch. "It's bloody arctic out there."

"Actually, I was talking about your lizard," I reply. "And we have lots of sunny winter days in Chicago." I walk farther into the room as a pair of jeans and black boots—both looking expensively distressed—come into view. "You know he's illegal, don't you?” I advise. Trust me, if pets were permitted in this building, I'd have adopted a herd of cats by now.

He leans around the chair back to look at me. I've never seen blue-black eyes like that before. They're striking. Stormy and intense under that mop of tousled black hair. There's a carefully calculated wildness to this guy's appearance that makes me wonder if the lizard is a beloved pet, or just the perfect shock-value accessory.

He reaches for the big green beast with the blatant affection my grandmother shows her cats. Definitely pet. Weird pet, but beloved. Still illegal, either way.

"Marilyn has a special dispensation."

The hundred-dollar word makes me laugh. "I thought only the Pope could give dispensations."

"Well, evidently the maintenance man can as well, provided you plunk down an obscenely large pet deposit."

Lou? Our super has all the compassion of a red-light camera. That must have been a hefty sum. "Marilyn, huh? She like the sun?"

"It's a must-have for iguanas. They get sick if you don't give them enough. That wasn't much of a challenge in L.A., but here..." he scoffs.

I sit down in the other high-back chair. The pair of chairs face the set of deliciously big windows that make this room the haven I often seek. It's the tenth floor, so the height helps me to remember the rat race down on the street isn't all there is to life. When you've got a job that's a one-hundred-percent uphill battle, you've got to do a little "mood maintenance." A lot, actually. Usually, an hour of quiet—maybe even prayerful—knitting in this sunny space is enough to recharge my batteries. I came up here for "Be Still My Soul," and wound up with "Animal Planet." Still, friendliness counts for something so I ask, "You're new here?"

"An extended stay."

Not "spending the holidays," but "an extended stay." There's just enough edge to his words to tell me there's a story there, but he doesn't elaborate.

Do iguanas bite? I can't remember, so I chance it and extend my hand anyway. "I'm Zoe."

He starts to extend a hand—one with a really interesting silver ring, then freezes mid-gesture with a look of alarm on his face. "Zoe what?"

Do British introductions require last names? "Zoe Walters," I reply slowly, wondering just how bad it would look to retract my hand.

"Oh," he gulps, eyes wide, "you're her." The hand that ought to be shaking mine runs through his hair, while Marilyn's big froggish eyes roll to me with such a snide expression that I brace for dragon smoke to shoot from her nostrils.

"I'm who?" I ask, stunned by his reaction.

"From the thing," he says, waving his hand, "at the museum. The class."

Almost everyone in the building knows I run The Brick House, a neighborhood arts program a few blocks away. I know, because they all wonder how I can afford to live here on a not-for-profit salary, and most of them aren't particularly subtle about how they ask. Grandma—the one with the cats—helps my sister and I hold down the cost of our apartment here. Not that it's any of their business.

Nor is it Mister Lizard Guy's, who still hasn't told me his name or why mine is such cause for alarm.

Oh.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

I don't know why I didn't figure it out immediately, except for the fact that I never in a thousand years dreamed Nigel Langdon would be living in my building. I pictured Nigel Langdon a whole lot different than how he actually looks.

Things just got really interesting.

"You're Nigel Langdon?" Oops, probably shouldn't have asked that with quite the air of surprise I just did. One ought to treat the famous television animator recently down on his luck with a bit more class than a shocked American question mark.

"Most people recognize me." He flops back against the chair. "Or did.”

~*~

Blurb for Allie's story, A Brilliant Christmas (included in the book  "I'll Be Home For Christmas: Four Inspirational Holiday Novellas"): 

Zoe Walters pours her heart and soul into the community arts center she runs. Her kids could benefit so much from the brilliant talents of animator Nigel Langdon—if he weren’t such a legendary grump. 

The next six weeks of his artist-in-residency look like they’ll ruin Zoe’s Christmas for sure. And certainly, things get off to a rocky start until Zoe discovers the great big heart—and the deep hurt—Nigel’s been hiding under that crusty exterior. It turns out Nigel can see through to Zoe’s deepest wounds as well. 

When the arts center is threatened, Nigel and Zoe come together not only to save the organization, but to discover a love and the brilliant Christmas no one ever expected.

~*~
Book Review for "I'll Be Home For Christmas: Four Inspirational Holiday Novellas" (entire story collection): 

From small towns to the larger city of Chicago and from first impressions to first loves, I’ll Be Home for Christmas includes for novella collections to warm your heart.

Even though each of the stories in this collection is standalone (which go with each author’s separate book series), the collection is delightful and fun. From two people pretending to be together and a matchmaking relative, an ex-NFLer, ex-convict who wants to make a difference in the lives of young people but doesn’t feel worthy of the job, a famous cartoonist who has fallen in the public’s eye and takes an artist-in-residency position in Chicago, and first loves who are tricked into spending the holiday in Florida, each of the characters may just get more than they ever dreamed of for Christmas.

Filled with hope, family, friendships, and some laughter, I’ll Be Home for Christmas embodies what Christmas should look like. It’s never about the gifts under the tree but the relationships around the table. ~Review written by Suzanne Waltner on Amazon.

~*~

Author bio: An avid knitter, coffee junkie and unreformed chocoholic, Allie Pleiter writes both fiction and non-fiction working on as many as four novels at a time.

The enthusiastic but slightly untidy bestselling author of over thirty books, Allie spends her days writing, buying yarn, and finding new ways to avoid housework. Allie hails from Connecticut, moved to the midwest to attend Northwestern University, and currently lives outside Chicago, Illinois.

The “dare from a friend” to begin writing has produced a seventeen-year career with over 1.3 million books sold. In addition to writing, Allie maintains an active writing productivity coaching practice and speaks regularly on faith, the creative process, women’s issues, and her very favorite topic—time management for writers. 

Visit her website at www.alliepleiter.com to learn more.

~*~
Connect with Allie:

Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/alliepleiterauthor/
Facebook Page - https://www.facebook.com/alliepleiter
Twitter - https://twitter.com/alliepleiter
Pinterest - http://pinterest.com/alliepleiter/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/453346.Allie_Pleiter
Amazon - http://amzn.to/2oZlp1Z

~*~

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Cozy Christmas Reads: Deb's story

Excerpt from Texas Christmas Twins by Deb Kastner: 

Feeling awkward at having to let himself into a cabin he was unfamiliar with, he opened the door and stepped inside. He didn’t immediately see Miranda, or the twins, either, for that matter.

His attention was instead captured by the insane display of Christmas decorations, red and green, silver and gold, everywhere his gaze landed.

It looked as if the North Pole had exploded in her living room.

An enormous eight-foot Christmas tree stood in one corner, the flashing angel topper just barely clearing the ceiling. Presents wrapped in colorful aluminum paper were piled high underneath the tree.

She’d arranged a large Nativity set, complete with a stable and an angel proclaiming Peace on Earth, on the end table.

Shiny red and gold garland adorned every wall, with evergreen garland gracing the fireplace where the stockings were hung with care, as the poem went. Homemade stockings with Hudson and Harper’s names written in flourishes of red and green glitter glue.

This woman was clearly obsessed with Christmas.

And apparently, shiny things.

It took him a moment to focus and find Miranda. He supposed he’d expected to find her changing a diaper or feeding the twins as the reason she couldn’t answer the door.

Instead, she was right there in the middle of the living room, stretched out on her stomach underneath a card table that she’d draped with sheets, holding a flashlight she was beaming on a picture book as Harper and Hudson cuddled on either side of her.

Of all the crazy, unexpected scenarios, this one took the cake.

Or the Christmas fruit cake as the case might be.

The tent was ingenious. She’d used stacks of hardback books to fasten the edges of the sheet to the sofa on one side of them and an armchair on the other, with the card table holding up the structure in the middle.

She shined the flashlight at his face, momentarily blinding him, and he held up a hand to block the light.

“Simon?” she questioned, surprise lining her tone. “Simon West?”

He was astonished she recognized him. He’d added a few inches to his frame in the years since they’d seen each other last, not to mention a few pounds.

“Uncle Simon,” he corrected her tersely, nodding toward the twins. “It’s an honorary title.”

Of which he was very, very proud.

“Well, Uncle Simon, you’re more than welcome to join us.” She shifted herself and the twins to the side to make room for him in the tiny, strung-up tent.

“I’m welcome to—” he repeated. He’d walked into her house out of the blue. She had no idea why he was here, and yet she’d immediately offered him the opportunity to join in their…adventure.

"What are you doing here, by the way?" she asked curiously.

"I--er--"

Her offer completely threw him off his game, and for a moment he was fairly certain he was gaping and couldn't remember his own name, much less why he had come.

Eventually, he shook his head. There was no way he was going to get his large frame under that small table, no matter how hard he squeezed. And honestly, he didn’t even really want to try.

“We can make it work,” Miranda insisted, clearly not taking no for an answer. “I’m sure the twins will love spending quality time with their uncle Simon.”

She flashed the cover of the book at Simon, as if finding out what she was reading would somehow convince him to crawl in.

“We’re reading Little Red Riding Hood. Hudson likes the wolf, don’t you, buddy?” she asked the baby, making a growling sound and tickling his tummy.

Hudson squealed and giggled happily.

“Tell Uncle Simon you want him to come on down,” she said to Harper, giving her the same affectionate tickling treatment Hudson had just received. “I think he’s being a little bit stubborn, don’t you?”

Simon balked at her words. He wasn’t being stubborn. He was being practical.

And this was definitely not how this confrontation was supposed to go. This whole scenario was mind-boggling.

“But this is—” he started to say.

Ridiculous.

Humiliating.

Mortifying.

She raised a jaunty, dark eyebrow. There was no question about it. She was outright daring him to make a fool of himself with the twinkle in her pretty hazel eyes.

There was no way he was going to get out of this with his dignity intact. But he’d never been the type of man to walk away from a challenge.

Not now. Not ever.

Grumbling under his breath at the ignominy of it all, he dropped onto his belly to army crawl into the mixed-up files of Miranda’s imagination makeshift dwelling.

~*~
Author bio:

Publishers Weekly bestselling and award-winning author with over 1.5 million books in print, Deb Kastner writes stories of faith, family and community in a small-town western setting. 

She lives in Colorado with her husband and a pack of miscreant mutts, and is blessed with three daughters and two grandchildren. 

She enjoys spoiling her grandkids, movies, music (The Texas Tenors!), singing in the church choir and exploring Colorado on horseback.

~*~
Book blurb for Texas Christmas Twins:

Christmas on the Ranch

Miranda Morgan’s Christmas will be twice as busy now that she’s guardian of her sister’s sweet twin babies. But the celebrity photographer is happy to trade a glamorous LA lifestyle for motherhood in her small hometown of Wildhorn, Texas. 

Unfortunately, the twins’ handsome godfather, Simon West, is unconvinced. The brooding rancher isn’t thrilled about letting sunny, spontaneous Miranda into his carefully managed world. Though they disagree on almost everything, Simon and Miranda discover common ground as they work to make the twins’ first country Christmas cozy and bright. 

Could this holiday transform Miranda and Simon’s tentative friendship into a forever love?

~*~
Book Review of Texas Christmas Twins:

"Miranda was absolutely precious with the twins. Her antics and joy with them was fun to read. I was always thinking, "What will she be doing next?" Simon was lovingly overprotective, but had it all wrong. His care of his dogs and his love for the twins were touching. The mystery shenanigans added such a fun twist to the story. Again, exciting to see what was coming next. A very sweet read. I would recommend to anyone who loves babies, fun antics, dogs, and a sweet budding romance!" ~Kelly's Review on Goodreads

~*~
Buy Deb's book on Amazon

~*~
Connect with Deb:
Website - https://www.debkastnerbooks.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/debkastnerbooks
Twitter - https://www.twitter.com/debkastner

~*~

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Cozy Christmas Reads: Cynthia's story

Christmas in the Midst of Crisis
A guest post by Cynthia Ruchti

It’s impossible to approach Christmas apart from what’s going on in our lives—good and bad. But the wonder is that Christmas is God’s answer to what we’re facing.

Do some Christmas memories bite into your soul like the springs of a worn-out chair in need of restoration?

· An uncle refuses to come to the holiday celebration if his brother will be there.

· Christmas celebrating has lost its luster in light of the medical crisis the family’s facing?

· Memories won’t be the same in the assisted living center that now substitutes for the family home that once served as the gathering spot?

· Unforgiveness is an unwelcome guest at every holiday meal?

· As in “The Heart’s Harbor” in A Door County Christmas, the relationship you thought was solid has disintegrated?

· Imagine how Christmas festivities with a sweet Babe in a manger would feel to a couple who’s lost a child that year.

· How offensive Christmas lights must feel to someone whose world is darkened with depression.

· Television commercials about loving families gathered around a feast spread on the table before them must grate on those without a family or food or shelter, or whose family is estranged or bickering or missing a loved one.

We all know people who dread the holidays, who cringe at the mention that Christmas is coming. Many don’t necessarily approach Christmas with uninterrupted joy and unshadowed peace, with excitement and anticipation and an overflow of love.

All around us are people who are broken, worn-out, run-down, in need of repair, gouged by life’s injustices and injuries, faded, unprotected, uncared for, missing something vital…

What was really happening in the region around Bethlehem when Jesus appeared on the scene?

Jesus was born into a political firestorm that threatened the lives of babies like Him and sent waves of fear through their parents. Herod was ordering the murder of baby boys two years and under. Travel was hard and fraught with danger. Thieves abounded. Racial tension. Family heartaches. Financial difficulties exacerbated by taxation. Homelessness. The world had been waiting for answers to prayer for hundreds, thousands of years.

The same kind of chaos we see around us now.

The Christmas card Bethlehem picture doesn’t show the armed guards, the fear, the hopelessness.

But that’s exactly why Jesus came. Because the world—and we—are a mess without Him.

In “The Heart’s Harbor” novella that kicks off the A Door County Christmas novella collection, Amanda is reeling from the realization of how hollow that Christmas promised to be for her. But although drafted into a task for which she felt ill-suited—coordinating the legendary Christmas Tea for the Heart’s Harbor Inn—she soon found that it was in serving that she got her feet underneath her again. And that finding someone with whom she could serve side-by-side filled a gaping hole. The crisis of her Christmas disappeared as she served others and turned her attention away from her heartache to the needs around her. Discovering someone else who joined her in that adventure was an unexpected Christmas gift.

So much about the first Christmas was unexpected. The world had waited so long for a redeemer. Until Christ was born, hope was a promise, but an intangible. We humans have always had trouble with intangibles in our relationships.

SHOW me you love me.

SHOW me I can trust you.

SHOW me you care.

It’s been the same in our relationship with God. We listen to His Words, hear His stories, understand His truths. But the arrival of Jesus on the scene was, in a way, God’s response to a world that cries out, “SHOW me!”

Hope was born in a tangible way at Christmas.

Jesus’s birth proved once again that God keeps His promises—all of His promises. Hope soars when we grasp that concept. Life can be hard, harsh, hurtful, but still hope-hemmed.

The Christmas story we’ve come to embrace and honor isn’t rooted in applauding winter or venerating a generous St. Nicholas. Its foundation is an historic moment—when God became Man and dwelt among us. It’s recorded for us in Luke chapter two in the Bible. But more than that, it’s imprinted on our grateful hearts.

~*~
Author bio:

Cynthia Ruchti tells stories hemmed-in-hope through award-winning novels, nonfiction, devotionals, and through speaking events for women and writers. 

She is the professional relations liaison for American Christian Fiction Writers, connecting the organization with retailers, libraries, book clubs, and readers. 

Cynthia and her husband live in the heart of Wisconsin, not far from their three children and five (to date) grandchildren. 

~*~
Blurb for Cynthia's story "The Heart's Harbor" in A Door County Christmas:

Amanda Brooks retreats to picturesque Egg Harbor in Door County, Wisconsin, to escape an empty holiday season in her Chicago apartment. Peace on earth is what she needs but instead finds herself in charge of the Heart's Harbor Victorian Inn and its legendary Christmas Tea. Quirky guests, a bare-bones budget, an antisocial puppy, matchmaking owner, and the innkeeper's match-resistant son, Jordan, deepen Amanda's doubts that Christmas and love have anything in common.

~*~
Connect with Cynthia:
Website - www.cynthiaruchti.com
Twitter- https://twitter.com/cynthiaruchti
Facebook - facebook.com/CynthiaRuchtiReaderPage
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3176814.Cynthia_Ruchti

~*~
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Cozy Christmas Reads: Carrie's story

Excerpt from Ch. 2 of "The Substitute Bride" by Carrie Fancett Pagels:

The queasiness in Louis’s gut had nothing to do with this train but everything to do with it rocking along toward their final destination—his nightmare. He drew in a deep, steadying breath, and touched the small Bible in the pocket of his best wool suit.

“Ever ride in the luxury car before, Mr. Penwell?” Andrew Ellison’s deep voice held conflicting notes of sympathy and humor.

Louis sat up straighter in his heavily-cushioned, plush seat. “No, sir.”

The railway investor sucked in deeply on his cigar and then exhaled slowly. “Well, get used to it. With this promotion you’ll always be able to choose the executive compartment from here on out.”

“It’s certainly well-appointed, Mr. Ellison.” On the far wall, a built-in buffed-to-a-gleam cherry wood cabinet housed a full array of crystal and silver pieces. Crystal brandy snifters and liquor bottles sparkled as they rocked slightly in the high-sided, mahogany tray atop the counter.

“Should be for the money we put into this.” The investor narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, spreading his legs apart. “But you don’t seem to be enjoying the trip.”

Louis raised a palm. “Oh, no, sir, I am grateful for the promotion.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“How could I not appreciate the luxury of this room—crystal carafes and our own refreshment bar, comfortable sleeping quarters and seats?”

“Perhaps it’s just the motion of the train giving you that sallow look.” Mr. Ellison’s pipe smoke drifted in Louis’s direction, bringing to mind the scent of his father’s favorite tobacco, a rich Virginia blend harvested in the area where the prominent Penwell family’s plantations had dominated for centuries.

“I’m not accustomed to traveling much by rail, despite my job.” Louis grabbed onto the excuse.

“You’re no longer stuck in South Dakota, with so few women as possible brides. And with that raise you should be a married man in no time at all and a good influence in the community—as your supervisor figures.”

Or not. His mouth grew dry. He’d not heard back from Cora about his proposal, and now he was on his way there. What if she cashed the check and was even now headed out to South Dakota? Everything had happened so quickly, he’d not had time to do much other than pack his belongings. Cora was not an impulsive woman, from what he could discern in the letters. At least he’d gotten a telegram sent.

Ellison rose and crossed the chamber to the wall cabinet and poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. “You’ve been away from your hometown too long, I hear.”

Louis’s gut clenched. Hometown? He had no hometown. “The home where I lived in Salt River burned, sir.” Not that it mattered, since he’d lost their temporary home when his father had drowned in the river. They’d moved to Salt River after his mother died and Father had finally ceased gambling and taken a job at the mill. But then his father died, too. And just recently, Louis’s benefactor in Michigan, Mr. Welling, also passed away. Except for his friend, Cora, Louis truly was alone in the world.

Ellison sipped his drink, which sloshed in the snifter with the train’s steady movement. “I’m a Michigander myself, and Shepherd has become a bustling railroad center.”

“Haven’t been back since I left.” Louis’s gut began to roil, and the train’s movement shuddered through him.

“No?” The man quirked an eyebrow. “Mr. Stewart was sure you’d jump at the chance to return home.”

Louis stifled the urge to cringe. “Is that why my supervisor recommended me for the job in Michigan?”

“Precisely.”

Mr. Stewart had always seemed so fond of Louis. “I have to admit, it came as a surprise.” Louis would rather have remained where he was and had Cora join him. He prayed Cora had received his telegram.

If only his supervisor had realized that he was sending him back to the one place he’d vowed never to visit again, to never set foot in again, much less in which to reside. When Louis had learned Cora corresponded from the Poor House outside Shepherd, he’d vowed that one day he’d rescue her from the place. Why God? Perhaps this disruption was for Cora. But would the townsfolk accept her as a prominent railroad man’s wife or still see her as the woman from the Poor Farm? Would they recognize him and view him as the boy from the Poor House, with no family to claim him? A boy called Louis Smith because his father wouldn’t use his Penwell name.

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Author bio: 

ECPA-bestselling author Carrie Fancett Pagels, Ph.D., is the award-winning author of a dozen Christian historical romances. 

Twenty-five years as a psychologist didn't "cure" her overactive imagination! 

A self-professed “history geek,” she resides with her family in the Historic Triangle of Virginia but grew up as a “Yooper.” 

Carrie loves to read, bake, bead, and travel – but not all at the same time! 

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Book blurb for The Substitute Bride: 

A Christmas Carol meets It’s A Wonderful Life

A letter for Sonja’s deceased friend arrives at the post office in Michigan, and with it a proposal. With her father threatening to kick her out of his home, Sonja impulsively responds, offering to travel west to be a substitute bride.

At the same time, Louis’s railroad promotion sends him back to Michigan, the one place on earth he’d hoped to never return—where Christmas past was full of pain. 

A mysterious stranger leaves him marked copies of “A Christmas Carol” as he considers romancing Sonja in Christmas present. Will Louis discern the best choices for Christmas future? Does it include the Poor House, again? Even so—will God bring healing and love to him this year?

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Book Review for The Substitute Bride:

As always, Carrie Fancett Pagels pens another delightful, heartwarming story of faith, hope, and healing—intertwining A Christmas Carol and It's a Wonderful Life! With a compassionate hero and heroine—and endearing secondary characters who will cause your heart to melt despite the scenic white carpet of snow and frosted evergreen trees—the magical sights and scents of Christmas come alive in The Substitute Bride! Shepherd is a real town in Michigan where its townsfolk keep their history alive to this day, and Carrie Fancett Pagels gives us a sweet taste of what it may have been like...in Christmas past.

*Book Review written by Diana Flowers

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Buy Carrie's book on Amazon or Barnes and Noble

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Connect with Carrie:

Website: www.carriefancettpagels.com
Blogs: Overcoming With God and Colonial Quills

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Cozy Christmas Reads: Linda's story

What Would You Give?
A guest post by Linda Shenton Matchett

In times of war sacrifice is expected not only from the troops, but from those who remain on the home front. During WWII, Americans tightened their belts as food, clothing, rubber, metal and more were rationed. Women entered the workforce, and men left for parts unknown with the armed forces. Children played with toys that mimicked their parents’ lives and participated in air raid drills at school. However, the thousands of miles that distanced us from the conflict buffered the U.S. from the privation and challenges experienced by the European countries.

With only four miles separating France and England across the Straits of Dover on the English Channel, British citizens lived in fear of invasion. Street and subway station signs were removed to confuse possible raiding soldiers, and people were cautioned not to give directions to strangers. Anxious to win the war, the population was willing to do anything to further the cause.

One of the ways civilians helped was to give up their homes. According to Requisitioned, a book by John Martin Robinson, “the majority of houses of large size in Britain were requisitioned by the government…for use as barracks, homes for evacuees, schools, hospitals, works of art stores, strategic and military headquarters, billets and training premises, even prisoner-of-war camps.”

My story, “A Doctor in the House,” (part of The Hope of Christmas collection) takes place on a requisitioned estate north of London and explores what life was like for the homeowner to have his house converted to a convalescent hospital. Because the requisitioned homes were centuries old, they lacked central heating and other modern conveniences. Constructed of stone and brick, the structures held a constant chill during the cold winter months. Residents had to get creative to provide heat for themselves, and reports abound about furniture, paneling, and even staircases being broken up for firewood.

Nearly everyone used cigarettes at the time, and countless fires occurred due to careless smokers. Episodes are told about soldiers using priceless art work as dart boards, and at Tottenham Park in Wiltshire, the grounds were used as an ammo dump. An accidental explosion blew out every pane of glass in the house and the conservatory. Arundel Castle’s herd of red deer was hunted for food, and at Brocket Hall soldiers carved their names, addresses and phone numbers in the balustrade of the park bridge.

Hatfield House and Heath House served as the inspiration for my story’s setting. Hatfield House was used as a hospital and POW camp, and Heath House was taken over by the Red Cross as an auxiliary hospital for military personnel. The sheer volume of individuals stationed on these properties that previously housed several dozen people at most, created extensive wear and tear, but they did not suffer irreparable damage as so many others did.

Because of hard use or maltreatment, more than one thousand ancestral homes were destroyed or torn down after the war. In 1946, building materials were still rationed and taxes high. Repairs to country homes were done on a shoestring, make-do-and-mend basis, which meant bigger issues were covered over to be dealt with at a later time. But the generations who took over after the war were determined to make a go of it, and thanks to grants, opening their homes to the public, and the use of second-hand furnishings, thousands more homes have survived.

How would you feel about giving up your home?

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Author bio:

Linda Shenton Matchett is an author, journalist, blogger, and history geek. 

Born a stone’s throw from Fort McHenry in Baltimore, Maryland, Linda has lived in historical places most of her life. 

She is a volunteer docent at the Wright Museum of WWII and a Trustee for her local public library. Linda is active in her church where she serves as treasurer, usher, and choir member. 

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Blurb for Linda's novella, "A Doctor in the House", part of The Hope of Christmas story collection:

Emma O’Sullivan is one of the first female doctors to enlist after President Franklin Roosevelt assigned to England to set up a convalescent hospital, and she leaves behind everything that is familiar. 

When the handsome widower of the requisitioned property claims she’s incompetent and tries to get her transferred, she must prove to her superiors she’s more than capable. But she’s soon drawn to the good-looking, grieving owner. Will she have to choose between her job and her heart?

Archibald “Archie” Heron is the last survivor of the Heron dynasty, his two older brothers having been lost at Dunkirk and Trondheim and his parents in the Blitz. After his wife is killed in a bombing raid while visiting Brighton, he begins to feel like a modern-day Job. To add insult to injury, the British government requisitions his country estate, Heron Hall, for the U.S. Army to use as a hospital. The last straw is when the hospital administrator turns out to be a fiery, ginger-haired American woman. She’s got to go. Or does she?

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Buy Linda's book on Amazon

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Connect with Linda:
Website - www.LindaShentonMatchett.com
Facebook - www.facebook.com/authorlindamatchett
Pinterest - www.pinterest.com/lindasmatchett
LinkedIn - www.linkedin.com/in/authorlindamatchett
Goodreads - www.goodreads.com/author_Linda_Matchett
Amazon Author Page - http://amzn.to/2yozXb3

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Cozy Christmas Reads: June's story

The Real Christmas at Raccoon Creek
A guest post by June Foster

A couple of years back, I got a contract to join with some other authors in writing a Christmas novella. The editor chose a theme—each story would center around a Christmas snow globe. Since I write contemporary romance, I fully expected my story to be in that genre. It is. With a twist.

I asked myself what if a young nurse, Emily Eason, who lives in her grandmother's fifties-style home buys a snow globe at the drug store in her tiny town of Raccoon Creek? What if she brings it home and falls asleep while gazing at the little village, the snowmen, and falling snowflakes then wakes up. Nothing looks different at first, but then she discovers her computer is missing and in its place is an old free-standing TV like from years ago. Her phone rings with the old timey ring tone, but when she looks for her cell phone, she discovers a black dial phone making the noise. Could that really happen? Well, yes, in my imagination.

Since we lived in Locust Fork, Alabama, population 750, I envisioned the story taking place in our town. Emily's 50's house I based on memories of my childhood home. Yes, I grew up in the fifties. I patterned the layout of Raccoon Creek after Locust Fork's time honored streets.

The 1950's drug store where the hero, Lance Hardwicke, is a pharmacist, is like the one in the middle of our little Alabama town. Only the present day store is updated for modern times but sells a few items one might find in shops five or six decades ago: old fashioned greeting cards, colorful plastic bracelets, fun sunglasses, jewelry items, and painted coffee mugs among others.

Though the imaginary Raccoon Creek is a bit larger than Locust Fork, the terrain around the town is the same. Well, I did add a little river near Emily's house. The real one, the Locust Fork River, is farther in the forest. The same evergreens grow in and around town. Emily and Lance experience a snow storm just like the one we had the first winter in our house.

This magical Christmas story was one of my favorites to write. It sent me on a sentimental trip to my childhood. How fun it was when some of my friends from Locust Fork and our church who read the story said they could actually picture present day Locust Fork as they read.

Merry Christmas, everyone. Hope you enjoy all the Christmas stories featured on Alexis's blog.

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Author Bio: An award-winning author, June Foster is a retired teacher with a BA in education and MA in counseling. June's book Give Us This Day was a finalist in EPIC's eBook awards and a finalist in the National Readers Choice Awards for best first book. Ryan's Father was one of three finalists in the published contemporary fiction category of the Oregon Christian Writers Cascade Writing Contest and Awards. Deliver Us was a finalist in COTT's Laurel Awards. 

June has written four novels for Desert Breeze Publishing. The Bellewood Series, Give Us This Day, As We Forgive, and Deliver Us, and Hometown Fourth of July. Ryan's Father is published by WhiteFire Publishing. Red and the Wolf, a modern day retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, is available from Amazon.com. The Almond Tree series, For All Eternity, Echoes From the Past, What God Knew, and Almond Street Mission are available at Amazon.com.

June enjoys writing stories about characters who overcome the circumstances in their lives by the power of God and His Word. Recently June has seen publication of Christmas at Raccoon Creek, Lavender Fields Inn, Misty Hollow, Restoration of the Heart, Letting Go, and Prescription for Romance. Visit June at junefoster.com.

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Blurb for June's book:  

Emily Eason wants to distance herself from her parents' opulent lifestyle in Birmingham, Alabama, and enjoy life in the rural village of Raccoon Creek and her fifties-style home. But after gazing into the little snow globe she purchased from Hardwicke's Drugs and Gifts, she finds herself transported to another time—her grandmother's era. 

Lance Hardwicke is the pharmacist and owner of Hardwicke's Drugs. Four years of pharmacy school didn't allow for much of a social life. Gorgeous Emily Eason, nurse and resident of Raccoon Creek, has captured his attention. The next time she comes in the store, he's determined to ask her out. Maybe take her to Birmingham to see the Christmas lights in his brand new orange and white '53 Pontiac Pathfinder.

Can love span the fifty-year gap standing between them?

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Buy June's book on Amazon 

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Connect with June:
Website - http://www.junefoster.com
Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/author/junefoster
Twitter -  https://twitter.com/vjifoster
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorjunefoster

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