Christmas in Snow Valley is the perfect way for April Winston to introduce her city slicker fiance, Scott Mecham, to life on a farm. If only Wade Hadley, hometown boy and high school sweetheart, will cooperate!
But Wade has no intention of letting April go without a fight. This Christmas, he is determined to overcome their painful past and show April that she already has what she’s been seeking all along.
Free today only!
Sweet Illusions
by Jeanette Lewis
©All Rights Reserved
The moon hung low and bright, bouncing off the sand and giving them more than enough light to hunt for shells. Arthur had stayed with Gina, but the rest of the children scampered ahead of Ben and Eva as they walked slowly up the beach. Ben had no idea where his shoes had ended up, and he was pleased to see Eva had slipped hers off too. They stayed on the edge of the water and every once in a while, a wave came boiling up the sand to swirl around their ankles before withdrawing again with a soft hiss.
“Man, I’ve missed it here,” he said, taking a deep breath.
“Jennifer said you’ve been in Atlanta?” Eva asked.
“Yeah. I was on the force there for six years.” His stomach knotted. What if she wanted to know why he’d come home? What if she’d heard about Griffin? Or maybe she already knew; she did live next door to Miss Lucille, after all.
“How do you like Indigo Bay?” he asked. Dumb question, but they had to start somewhere. He’d noticed how she tried to steer the conversation away from herself at dinner—a classic conversation tactic. Was she practicing Tinder’s Top Ten Tips for Dating, or was she merely a private person? And if so, how did he draw her out?
“It’s beautiful,” Eva said, and he remembered he’d asked her about Indigo Bay. “I love the ocean, and your parents’ house is amazing. I feel lucky to live here.”
“Yeah, that’s how I always felt too,” he said. Slightly ahead of them, three-year-old Ezra face-planted in the sand and Ben chuckled, watching as Abbie pulled him up and brushed him off.
“Do your brother and sister live around here too?” Eva asked.
“Tyler and Jennifer live closer to Hilton Head and Gina and Lee are about two hours inland,” Ben explained.
“Look at this one!” Jordan came running up, holding a small peach-colored shell.
“Calico scallop,” Ben told him. “Think you can find the other half?”
It would be nearly impossible to find a matched set of scallop shells, but the five-year-old took off running, his head moving back and forth as he eagerly searched the sand. Ben felt kind of bad sending him off on an impossible errand, but figured it was worth it to give him more alone time with Eva.
They walked past Miss Lucille’s house, rising three stories and ringed with balconies. Ben had never been inside, but when they were little, he and Gina had made up stories about Miss Lucille’s Fort of Surveillance. Inside would be set up like a crime lab from the movies—a dozen heavily muscled agents in black jackets sipping coffee in front of computer screens as they monitored everything that happened within a five-hundred-foot radius of the property; a helicopter waiting on the roof for a quick escape; three dozen cameras trained on the beach to keep an eye on the tourists; and a special forensics lab to determine exactly whose dog had pooped on the lawn.
Tonight, though, all the windows were dark except for one, where a small lamp burned on the lower level. Miss Lucille had mentioned setting him up with … was it her niece? He’d told her he planned to focus on work, but that had changed when he’d seen his mom coming across the sand with Eva.
He glanced sideways at her, noting how the moonlight kissed the bridge of her nose and the pale skin on her forehead. Her hair was so dark it blended into the shadows, but her enormous eyes glowed blue. He felt a stirring in his gut. She was reserved, but she’d laughed a few times at dinner and he’d found himself craving the sound, wanting to hear it again and especially wanting it to be because of him. He had an almost irrepressible urge to start showing off, like a teenager trying to impress a girl, wanting to be the source of her joy.
“Best thing about the chocolate shop—go,” Ben said.
“The chocolate, duh,” Eva said with a teasing lilt in her voice.
“And I’ll bet Miss Eulalie lets you eat as much as you can, right?”
“Of course,” Eva said. “We’ve got all the basic food groups covered: white in the morning, milk at lunch, and dark for dinner.”
He laughed. “Sounds like the perfect job.”
She threw him a quick smile, and he fought back a wild impulse to start doing push-ups.
“Actually, I like making them more than eating them. Is that weird? There’s something so satisfying about pulling the fondant out of the melted chocolate, putting a perfect little curl on the top.” She hesitated. “Sorry, that probably sounds lame.”
It didn’t sound lame at all. It made him want to watch her work, see her eyes come alight when she got the perfect curl.
“Uncle Ben, look at this!” It was Abbie this time. She extended her palm to reveal what looked like a small rock, only it was a matte green and gleamed in the moonlight.
“Sea glass,” Ben said. He plucked it from her hand and ran his thumb along the rounded edge. “Nice job, this is a good one.”
“Sea glass?” Eva asked.
Ben handed it to her and watched as she rubbed her delicate fingertips over it in fascination.
“It washes ashore from all over the world,” Abbie declared proudly. “Daddy says each piece could be hundreds of years old.”
“It’s really beautiful.” Eva held it up to let the moonlight shine through the frosty surface.
“Greens and browns are the most common; they’re usually from soda or beer bottles,” Ben said. “Or sometimes industrial glass like fishing floats. Most of it’s litter, but some comes from shipwrecks.”
Eva ran her nail along a small niche in the glass where the sand and salt hadn’t had time to completely obscure the shine. “It’s really neat,” she finally said, offering the glass back to Abbie.
“You can keep it,” Abbie offered.
“Are you sure? I mean, if it’s rare …”
Abbie shrugged. “I have a lot of green at home already.”
“Thank you.” Eva gave the girl a warm smile. “I love it.”
A whistle sounded above the waves, and Ben recognized it immediately, his dad’s call to muster the troops. The children heard it too; they did a one-eighty and charged back down the beach to where the embers of the fire hadn’t quite died out.
“Ben, can I ask you something?” Eva said as they followed the kids at a slower pace.
“Sure.”
“Did … did I steal your apartment?”
“Huh?”
She waved her hand toward the dunes, where the rooftop of his parents’ house was visible. “You could have had the apartment over the garage. Only now you can’t, because I’m there.”
Ben laughed. “Honestly, the thought never occurred to me.”
“You weren’t planning to stay there?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I love my family, but I don’t want to live at home again.”
“Your family is great,” Eva said with a slight defensive touch to her voice.
“True. But after being away for so long, I’m okay living across town from them. Don’t worry,” he added quickly, not wanting to worry her, “they’re a little intense sometimes, but way more Stark clan than Lannister.”
He’d been going for a laugh, but the look she gave him was totally blank. “Lannister?”
“Like in Game of Thrones? The Red Wedding, Rains of Castamere? We’re not into revenge killing. Though sometimes as kids Tyler and I would fight so much that—” He stopped when he saw the look on her face. The color had drained from her cheeks and her eyes were glazed, unfocused. “Are you okay?” Ben asked. He grabbed her arm, afraid she would faint, or something.
Eva shook her head as if to clear it. “Right, Game of Thrones.” Her voice shook. “Sorry, I got distracted for a second.” She threw a look to where the party was breaking up. “We should probably go help.” Before he could say another word, she hurried off, practically running down the beach away from him. During the chaos of cleaning up, she slipped away before he could tell her goodbye.
* * *
Eva closed the door and leaned against it, as if she could somehow shut out the past with her body. She turned the lock and dropped her shoes by the door, then dug the piece of sea glass from the pocket of her skirt. It was cool and smooth with indentations that fit against her fingertips perfectly, like a worry stone. She set it on the bookcase next to the lamp.
Worry was right. Clan. Revenge killing. He’d thrown those words around like they were nothing and sent her spiraling back into memories of dark days that were best forgotten.
She groaned. Of all the people in Indigo Bay to feel a spark with, she had to pick the cop? How long before he started digging into her past and showing up at her door wanting answers she couldn’t give?
Eva dropped her head into her hands as old fears and new combined to buzz at the base of her skull like a swarm of angry bees, trying to find a way in. Could she ever stop running?
Get Sweet Illusions
I am very behind the curve on The Handmaid’s Tale. I haven’t seen any of the TV show, but I finally read the book.
My rating: 3.5 stars
Margaret Atwood writes beautiful prose. There were paragraphs that made me want to go back and read them over and over, just for the pure pleasure of the way her words flowed. She is truly an artist with language and she is very good at setting a scene and building tension into a story. I also really liked how Atwood built on existing US culture and religion to create a story that’s extreme, but not entirely unbelievable as a post-apocalyptic world.
3.5 stars because once the novelty wore off, I had a hard time getting into the story. I didn’t care about any of the characters or what happened to them and there’s so much left unsaid and open to the reader’s interpretation, that I found the ending very unsatisfying. It’s also a pretty dark and depressing read most of the time, so not one I’d want to read again.
This will be an ongoing series where I answer the most common questions I get from readers:
Q1: When did you start writing and why?
A: The first thing I remember writing was a story in first grade. We were given a picture of a duck, and we had to color it, then write a story for it. In mine, the duck was sad because it couldn’t find any friends. Then (plot twist!) a big group of animals showed up and they all became friends, the end. My teacher took me around to all the first and second grade classrooms and had me read it to them, so I guess it was probably above what you’d expect from a six-year-old. From then on, I started writing stories and trust me, my early versions were all just as riveting as the lonely duck story!
Q2: What have you done besides write books?
A: I have a bachelors degree in marketing and I worked for several years in market research. I have also been (in reverse order) a legal secretary, an airline reservations agent, a retail clothing employee, a receptionist, and my first job was at McDonalds.
Q3: What is your family like?
A: My husband and I recently celebrated our 28th anniversary. We have four kids, ages 22, 20, 13, and 12 – two girls and then two boys. The large gap is because we weren’t sure we were done having kids after the first two, then decided we weren’t. Our 13yo has autism and several other health issues, so he can take up quite a bit of our time.
Q4: What is your advice for new writers?
A: Figure out why you’re writing. Some people write because they have stories inside them that need to be told; others write because it’s therapeutic; and some write because they are skilled at it and can make a living. Your approach to writing will be different depending on why you’re doing it.
Q5: How did you get started?
My first book is a short Christmas story called An Unexpected Angel that was published in 2012 by Cedar Fort Publishers. Through that story, I met Lucy McConnell, a fellow Cedar Fort author, and we decided to write sweet romance and create the Snow Valley series. From there, it grew slowly. I’m definitely not as fast at writing as some of my author friends, but I’m at 20 books now and working on the next one.
Stay tuned for more! If you have any questions, you can send them to me at: AuthorJeanetteLewis@gmail.com
One of my favorite parts of a book to write is that moment when the characters have to choose if they’re going to run away, or push through the hard stuff and love each other. It’s a moment that sometimes gets overshadowed by all the feels and the kissy scenes, but it’s really the true climax of the book, the happily ever after, the reward we’ve been waiting for.
Sometimes in my books, it’s dramatic and filled with tension and chaos, and sometimes it’s soft and gentle, like a midnight sigh. In Kissing the Mountain Man, it’s a little of both and I love the physical actions that accompany the characters’ decisions … Kennedy, running after Clay’s truck in too-big boots … Clay seeing her in the rearview mirror and having to decide if he’ll stop, or continue driving out of her life.
These are the moments we dramatic authors are made for. *Swoon*
Here’s an excerpt from Kissing the Mountain Man, the book that landed me on the USA Today bestsellers list. I hope you enjoy it!
***
Kissing the Mountain Man – Excerpt
by Jeanette Lewis (All Rights Reserved)
In the rearview mirror, he saw Kennedy start running, following the truck. She was awkward in the boots, her coat flapping against her legs, hair flying. Clay put on the brakes, and when she reached him, she grabbed the tailgate and hauled herself into the back.
“Talk to me, Clay,” she hollered. She crossed her arms and settled onto the nylon bag that was his tent, her eyes flashing at him in the rearview mirror, daring him to stop her.
He threw the truck in park and climbed out, trying to tamp down the small spark of hope that flared suddenly in his chest. This was ridiculous. This would never work.
“What?” he demanded when he reached her side.
She took a deep breath. “It’s new. It’s uncertain. There are a lot of reasons it won’t work.”
He nodded, his heart falling.
“But,” Kennedy continued, “there are a lot of reasons why it could work too. I know it’s scary. I know it’s hard. But isn’t it worth a try? Isn’t it worth some compromise?”
His throat went tight. “I don’t know if I can stand to care about you and then lose you.”
“I don’t know if I can stand it either,” Kennedy said. “But I also can’t stand letting it go and then having to wonder for the rest of my life if I made a mistake.”
He was quiet.
“Hey.” She punched him lightly in the arm. “I cut down a tree. You bought powdered donuts from a store. We both did things this week we never thought we’d do. So why couldn’t we do this too? Why couldn’t this work?”
He clenched his fists, fighting against the fear that pounded in his chest. Beneath the fear, there was a small crack, a small glimmer of hope.
Kissing the Mountain Man is available exclusively on Amazon and is free for KU Readers!
Get Kissing the Mountain Man
Get Feels Like Love free when you join my VIP Reader’s Club!