Hello All!
I finally got the results I was looking for from one paint pouring method. What do you think? Feel? See? Any interpretation?
Hello All!
I finally got the results I was looking for from one paint pouring method. What do you think? Feel? See? Any interpretation?
Reclaiming her life after a devastating riding accident, equestrian Emily Conners’ world shatters again when she discovers her friend and boss laying in a stall with a smashed skull. Now jobless and with a handsome cop underfoot investigating the case, she's torn between wanting the killer found and keeping her own secrets safe.
Detective Justin Butler always gets his killer, but this victim has a stampede of enemies and few leads to go on. Stonewalled by the tight-knit equestrian world, he looks to Emily for help, but she’s strangely reluctant. Is she hiding something, or is she afraid of their growing attraction?
As the search for the murderer heats up, their hearts become entangled and their lives at risk, forcing Emily and Justin to work together to find the killer before they strike again.
Some Family Trees Should Be Burned. . .
Greer Girls are special. Greer Girls are rare. Greer Girls are central to the secret Order of Belial.
Sophie Greer knows none of this. All she knows is that her now ex-boyfriend cheated on her, she’s alone working in Paris, and her mysterious billionaire boss, Edward Hughes, is way too interested in her life.
But when Sophie is kidnapped in Moscow while on a business trip, she’s plunged into the dark underbelly of the global elite and a sinister secret society with deep ties to her family; ties that lead to revelations darker than anything Sophie could have imagined.
Betrayed by the man who raised her, and targeted by the illustrious Hughes family, only one thing is certain—family history can be deadly. If Sophie is to survive, she must decide who to trust and what to believe, or risk being crushed beneath the weight of the all-powerful secret Order of Belial.
Read an Excerpt
The front door slams behind me with a clamorous thud. I jump, frightened. Marcella Belleville’s ominous laughter sails through the air while the cloaked beings descend the steps to encircle me. Turning to and fro, I try to slip through an opening in their ranks, but they close in so that not even a hairpin could find a fissure for escape. A low chanting starts up, like a rumble from some vile private inferno.
Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.
The primal beating of the drums grows louder, drowning out Marcella’s maniacal laughter. Blood rushes to my face. I hear a whirring in my ears.
Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.
All I see is darkness. My heartbeat keeps time with the pulsing of the drums.
Suddenly I feel another presence. Ephemeral. Sinister. It also laughs. Its guttural wails blend with Marcella’s tinny falsetto as it, too, encircles and envelops me. No one is touching me. I know that. And yet…
It feels awful—delectable—disgusting—delicious, all at once. I hate it. The chanting grows louder.
Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.
Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.
“Stop!” I cry out, finding my voice at last. “Please. Stop!”
But it’s too late. Wispy black smoke fills my nostrils. My mouth freezes into a silent scream as the smoke fills every orifice in my head—eyes, nose, ears, mouth. The sound of babies crying mixed with horrific images of children laughing and playing in blood assault my senses. I know it can’t be real, must be a trick of some sort, an illusion, but I’m powerless to stop it.
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During a hectic couple of weeks in February 1944, the girls of the Air Transport Auxiliary Mystery Club must face devastating personal loss amongst their number. A member of an illegal faction blackmails Betty, whilst a mystery at Mary's ancestral home threatens to cause more trouble than anyone thought possible. In the midst of what should be the happiest of times, the portents seem to be catching up and little is what it seems to be. Can the girls find the strength to battle forces both internal and external, yet still maintain their dignity and friendship?
An Amish Christmas Star
by Charlotte Hubbard
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Inspirational Romance (Amish)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
The crisp fragrance of pine trees and the warm spice of fresh cookies aren’t the only blessings
that Christmas brings, and no one knows more about happy homecomings than three couples
who are celebrating the greatest gift of all . . .
STAR OF WONDER by Charlotte Hubbard
When Raymond Overholt comes to Promise Lodge, hoping to sell the barnboard signs he’s
painted with stars and Christmas messages, spirited young Mennonite Lizzie Zehr is intrigued.
But any courtship between them will face fierce opposition from the bishop of Raymond’s Old
Order community—unless someone can convince him that at the heart of faith lies love . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT
After a deadly dull Monday morning of filling small plastic containers with colored sugars and
Christmas jimmies, Lizzie Zehr loaded them onto her wheeled cart and headed into the main
room of Promise Lodge’s new bulk store. It was boring work, all that scooping and
labeling—repetitive and downright lonely, being stuck back in the warehouse by herself.
But compared to slaving in her older sister Maria’s bakery or, for years before that, running the
household for their eldest, crippled sister, Malinda, it was a piece of cake.
And because Dale Kraybill was paying her, it was freedom. This job was her ticket to
independence, an escape from the two bossy sisters who’d been running her ragged for most of
her eighteen years. Their parents had passed when she was very young, so Lizzie’s sisters had
raised her as best they could—and they expected her to be grateful. She was, of course. But
she was also really tired of being at their beck and call.
Lizzie’s thoughts shifted into a higher gear the moment she spotted the guy who was talking to
Dale. The two fellows were hanging wooden signboards, which caught her eye because of their
sparkly gold stars—but the shimmer of their glittery paint paled the moment the younger fellow
turned around. In his green paisley shirt, red jeans, and backswept black hair, he looked
anything but Plain, and when he met her gaze through his red-framed glasses, Lizzie
immediately knew they were soul mates. Like her, this free spirit was gnashing at the bit and
refusing to conform to the religious limitations he’d been raised with.
Like her, he wanted out.
“Hey there,” he said. His voice, barely audible from across the cavernous room, spoke volumes
to Lizzie’s restless heart.
Afraid to say something stupid, she merely nodded and held his gaze. She heard the secretive
whisper of soft, small objects hitting a hard surface—or maybe it was the feathery swishing of
angels’ wings—
“Lizzie, watch what—you’re spilling jimmies all over the floor!” Dale cried out.
She blinked. She had no memory of picking up a container, just as she didn’t realize she’d been
squeezing it so tightly that the lid had popped off. The sight of red and green jimmies bouncing
off her bare feet—she wore flip-flops year-round to show off her painted toenails—was suddenly
the funniest thing she’d ever seen. As Lizzie sprinted into the warehouse for a broom, her
laughter filled the store.
Her life was finally taking a turn for the better. She just knew it.
Author Bio:
In 1983, Charlotte Hubbard sold her first story to True Story. She wrote around 70 of those
confession stories, and she’s sold more than 60 books to traditional or online publishers. A
longtime resident of Missouri, she’s currently writing Amish romances set in imaginary Missouri
towns for Kensington. She now lives in Omaha, NE with her husband of 40+ years and their
Border collie, Vera.