Even when we say, “Oh, God” or “Oh, my God” or plain old “God!” it’s a prayer of sorts. Whether we’re sharing grief, frustration, or joy, God hears us.
Although it was inspired by friends of mine who have five daughters, one of whom is named Stephanie, and one of whom (the youngest) had a Christmas wedding, I'm not sure why I decided to write a romantic Christmas novella.
I’ve come to the conclusion that we are a nation of gluttons. Not only when it comes to food, but in so many areas of our lives. We have too much. Too many choices, too easily obtained.
what if I couldn’t do any of those things? What if I was trapped in a house, in my room, in my bed, alone and in pain? What if I couldn’t bathe myself? What if getting to the toilet required a monumental effort equaled only by getting back to my bed afterward?
He frowned. “How would you…? Wait. You were watching me get dressed?” His tone of voice conveyed his outrage at her invasion of his privacy.
“Oh, come on. How much do you think I could see hiding under the bed so you wouldn’t find me? Not much, I can tell you that. Mostly what I saw was your feet. Your shoes and socks. Your pants cuffs.”
“And from that you deduced I was an accountant?”
“I’m so grateful the author decided to publish this “manuscript under the bed”. It is filled with loss, torment, hope, action, and suspense that this reviewer could not put down. Recommend highly!”