Imagine being forced to give up custody of your child.

 That’s exactly what happened to Vanessa Gleason. A fairy tale marriage turned into a nightmare, Now, alone in the world, Vanessa vows to fight her wealthy ex husband for custody of her daughter. Was it fate that brought her to the little church on Christmas Eve?

Vanessa locked herself in a hotel room for two weeks after her husband threw her out. Cried out, devastated and lonelier than she'd ever been in her life, she knew it was time to move on. Time to make a plan. 
First thing she did was get a newspaper and circle promising jobs in the classifieds. After a few phone calls, it didn't take her long to realize Christmas Eve wasn't the time to look for a job. Scared, bored, and half out of her mind with grief, she decided  to leave the small room and take a drive. Anything to avoid thinking.
She ended up in the heart of town among last minute shoppers and Carolers. Hurrying past them, she found herself in front of a small church. Something drew her inside. Inside and up to the Nativity Scene.    There she discovered an infant in a car seat. Before she had a chance to decide what to do, the back door slammed and someone walked down the aisle toward her. Could he help her win her child back? 
What happened next changed Vanessa's life forever. 
Elusive Mission is available from Amazon.


Excerpt:

Vanessa’s stomach tensed. She had to get out of here. Needed some air, needed to escape. She got in her car and started driving, to where was anyone’s guess.

The quaintness of Strongsville, Ohio, especially the town square with the gazebo with all the Christmas decorations, brought fresh tears to her eyes. Vanessa wiped them away and parked the car. Shoppers and carolers filled the sidewalks. Ignoring them, Vanessa hurried past decorated shops until she came to a small church. St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church, the sign out front said. Two huge wreaths hung on the heavy oak doors. The small white building beckoned to her.

Vanessa opened the door, walked up the steps and stood at the entrance. The quiet of the empty church filled her soul. It had been too long since she had attended services. Charles wasn’t particularly religious, but he had allowed her to have Alyssa baptized. She should have gone to church more often by herself, but after spending Saturday evening at the club, it was all too easy to sleep in on Sunday morning, and eventually it became a habit.

 Light showed through the stained glass windows, illuminating the red carpet-covered aisle way. A nativity scene at the front captured her attention and drew her forward. Memories from her childhood flashed through her mind.

Her father always helped set up the nativity at church when she was a little girl, and they let her put Baby Jesus in the crèche. A noise came from the side aisle, interrupting her thoughts. Vanessa stopped, saw a flash of red, and the side door slammed. Funny, she hadn’t noticed anyone else when she came in.

Oh, well, Vanessa shrugged and continued to the front and knelt down. What in the world? Next to the nativity scene sat a car seat. An infant, three, maybe four months old with blonde curly hair, opened almond-shaped, dark eyes and reached its chubby arms out to her.

 “What have we here?” Vanessa unbuckled the seat belt. “Hello, precious.” She picked up the baby, and a note fell on the diaper bag next to the car seat. Vanessa picked up the paper and read the scribbled words.

Please take care of my baby. Her name is Grace. Mary.

“Who could leave someone as precious as you?” Vanessa looked around. No one lurked in the shadows. Who left the baby? How long had she been here? God, what should she do? The baby cuddled against her, and Vanessa inhaled the sweet smell of baby lotion. Tears filled her eyes. For a minute, she was tempted to take the baby and leave, but she couldn’t do it.

Startled, when the door at the back of the church slammed, Vanessa turned toward the sound. A shadow loomed at the entrance, moving toward her. A tall figure walked down the aisle, checking the pews along the way. Vanessa hugged the baby against her, held her breath, and let it out when she saw who it was.

“Father, I’m glad you’re here. I came in here and found this baby. I was just about to call the police.”

“I’m a minister, not a priest. Pastor Dan Jacobson, Pastor Dan will do,” he said. “You found a baby?” A glint of gold glistened in his copper brown eyes below raised eyebrows. “Who do you suppose it belongs to?”

“Yes, I ... uh.” She could easily have pretended Grace was hers. He wouldn’t have known. “When I came in someone ran out through that side door. I came up here to see the nativity scene and….” Vanessa walked away and sat in a pew, cradling the baby against her chest. What was the use, he didn’t believe her. She didn’t need this. Not now. She had enough problems of her own.

“I see, pretty little thing, boy or girl?”

Vanessa stood and took a step closer to him. “Girl.” She stopped next to him. “You aren’t suggesting this child is mine, are you?” Vanessa looked him straight in the eyes. How dare he? Minister or not, what gave him the right? “Look, I came in here and found the baby. I told you someone ran out that door.” Vanessa took a deep breath, let out an angry sigh. “Here.” She pushed the note toward him. “This was lying on the diaper bag. I didn’t touch anything else.”

Pastor Dan stared at her, studying her. Vanessa stared back. Disbelief showed in his face. Like she’d try to pull off such a stunt? Imagine her abandoning a baby like this. The memory of Alyssa, clinging to her when Charles tore her away, flashed in her mind. Even now, Alyssa’s cries, when Charles slammed the door, ripped her apart.

Pastor Dan’s voice brought her back to awareness. “I see. Well, I guess we’ll have to call Social Services.” He read the note, then picked up the diaper bag and looked through it.

Grace squirmed in Vanessa’s arms and began to cry.

“Probably hungry.” Vanessa rocked the baby.

Pastor Dan pulled a bottle of formula from the diaper bag.

The warmth of the baby against her chest opened a hole in Vanessa’s heart, making her miss Alyssa even more. Her insides trembled, tears burned her eyes, threatened to fall.

“You have children?” Pastor Dan’s tone softened.

A tear escaped, fell on her cheek. She nodded, a lump caught in her throat.

“How many?”

“One.” Vanessa choked out the word.

How old?”

“Two.” The tears burst forth as if a damn had been unleashed. “I’m....” Vanessa couldn’t speak. She turned away, held back the tears, and paced across the front to the nativity scene, leaving him standing there.

Sarah's Heart by Ginger Simpson

Hi,

I’m Sarah Collins, and I’m here to tell you that my… well Sarah's Heart is my story, but actually Ginger Simpson’s book, and is free today on Amazon.  When I shared the idea with Ginger, I couldn’t really decide which genre best suited my experience, so I guess I’ll let you read and decide if historical, women’s fiction, romance, western, or perhaps some other category strikes your fancy.  If nothing else, the cover by Michelle Lee has to leave you breathless.  But then, a little about the story:

After my folks died, and I found myself alone and pursued by an ugly and unscrupulous banker, I decided to sell what I could, buy a wagon and team and head for California.  I truly would've re-considered my actions had I known the wagon train I traveled with would be attacked by a war-party and I’d be the sole-survivor.  God knows I tried to save my friend, Maggie, but to no avail.  After what I’d been through, I hardly expected a snakebite to take me down…and it might have had it not been for Wolf.  Not the animal, of course, Grey Wolf, a half-breed who really had reason to leave me right where he found me, but he didn’t know that at the time.

If you think prejudice runs rampant today, it’s not anything new, trust me.  Try traveling with someone of mixed blood, especially when people hold the Indians in such low regard.  Here’s a little excerpt to show you what I mean:

Set Up – Wolf and Sarah are traveling to Independence but stop for rest at a mission along the Oregon Trail.  The army arrests Wolf on suspicion of stealing from the post, although he’s never been there.  Sarah is left alone with the priests and nuns, wondering if Wolf will ever return or if staying to help teach the children is her fate.  She’s just taken three little girls on a flower-picking outing and they’re returning when…

As they trudged along the grassy path back to the mission, the unmistakable spots of a painted mare caught Sarah's eye. She hurried the children inside, handing them off to a passing nun, and then ran around to the front. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.

It had to be Scout tethered to the hitching rail alongside a black horse with a patch of white just below its forelock. Both wore no saddle, and the dappled mare greeted her with a friendly nicker. Sarah approached, brushed her hand down the animal’s muzzle and turned toward the church entrance.

Wolf stood in the doorway, his dark hair hazed gray with dust and his left eye swollen. Blue, purple and yellow hues tinged his cheek, but the bruising did little to detract from his handsome face.

Sarah ran to him, flung herself into his arms, and hugged his neck. “Oh, am I ever glad to see you. I was worried sick you wouldn’t come back.”

Sensing him stiffen, she realized her forwardness and quickly backed away, fixing a crooked grin on a face that burned with embarrassment.  “Forgive me. I’m just so excited you‘re here.” She nervously picked at her fingers.

He smiled then winced, dropping the puffy lid of his injured eye. “I would have been back sooner, but the army took its time in proving I wasn’t who they thought I was.”

“Thank God, they finally believed you.”  Sarah blinked back happy tears.

“Oh, it wasn‘t my word they trusted.  The quartermaster was on leave and the only person who could identify the man who stole the rifles and ammunition. Luckily, my description didn’t fit the details he’d provided for the wanted poster. I’m missing a scar running the length of my face, and my eyes are the wrong color. I never thought I’d be so grateful to have hazel ones.”

“Or me so thankful to see them again.” 

Still reveling in their moment of closeness, but pained by his obvious discomfort at her show of affection, she took a composing breath.  “You must be so tired. Come in and wash up.”

“How are you?”   His gaze drifted over her.

  “The people here have been wonderful to me. I couldn‘t have been in better hands. From the looks of your eye and cheek, you didn‘t fare nearly as well.”

“Just further proof that half-breeds aren’t any more appreciated than full-bloods.”  He opened his mouth, working his jaw back and forth. “The beating is a reminder from the guards in the stockade that I don’t measure up to their standards.”

Sarah reached to touch his bruised face, but he grasped her wrist, holding it in mid-air. “It’s all right, I’ve gotten used to it over the years. It’ll heal.” He gave a half smile and released her. “I sure would like something to eat.”

I hope you'll pick up a copy and enjoy the read.  I appreciate "likes" on Amazon if you truly enjoy Sarah's Heart.  I loved writing for you.

Ellie's Legacy by Ginger Simpson - Historical

Today, May 6th, is a free day on Amazon for Ellie's Legacy.  Although this book is a "previously published" work, re-releasing it through Books We Love gave me an opportunity to go back through and touch up parts that I've since learned needed some attention.  This book, previously Sparta Rose, was named the best historical read of 2009 by one of the most esteemed romance sites on the Web, Love Romance Cafe.  My reviews for SR have been positive, but I choose not to list any of them with this new version as I'm anxious to see how Ellie's Legacy fares.

  If you have positive suggestions for my further endeavors, please email me directly at mizging@gmail.com and let me know in private.  I'd prefer that method if you have issues with my writing.  I have no problem with constructive criticism, but I do take offense to the "snarky" types of reviews readers seem to be leaving these days as they do nothing to help me learn in this process of being an author.  Without readers there's no reason for stories, so I strive to bring you the best of me.  *smile*

Here's one of my favorite excerpts:

She walked to the counter. “I’d like to look at some of your sidearms please.”

One red brow arched. “Sidearms? Why Miz Roselle, what in the world are you going to do with a gun.”

“It’s a gift,” she lied. Her lips tightened into a thin line of impatience. She hated untruths. Why was everyone always in her business? First Ty, now Percy.

Men!

Percy moved to the weapons’ display case and gestured. “We have a large assortment. Will this be on your father’s account?”

“No, I’m sure I have enough money of my own.” She crossed her fingers and studied the guns in the new-fangled glass display.

“I’d like to hold that one.” She pointed to a shiny silver revolver.

Percy handed it to her. “It’s a beauty, just got it in this week. It’s one of those new Colts. A thirty-six caliber. But depending on who the gift is for, that big ol’ Colt might be a little too much. You might want to take a look at this new Smith & Wesson twenty-two caliber.” He gestured to another pistol.

Ellie eyed the blue plated weapon with rosewood grips and wrinkled her nose. “It looks so small in comparison.”

“Yes, but this one is a single action, seven shot model rather than the old cap and ball design. It’s much easier to load and fire.” Percy eyed her suspiciously, “Are you sure this ain’t for you Miz Ellie? If it is, I’m certain you’ll find the Smith more suitable to your abilities.”

A typical man’s attitude.

Her jaw tensed. When would people quit treating her like a child?

She held the revolver like an expert, measuring its weight and overall feel, but eyed the one to which he pointed, and then shook her head. The Colt was much more impressive. Its heavy weight wielded unbridled power in her hand. She turned and aimed toward the door just as it opened.

Ty Bishop.

“Whoa, don’t shoot,” Ty threw up his hands. His eyes widened. “Is that thing loaded?”

She quickly dropped the gun to her side, certain her face matched Percy’s hair. “No it isn’t, and what are you doing here?”

“A better question is what are you doin’ here. I thought…”

“I changed my mind, if that’s all right with you,” she snapped. “And why are you following me?”

“I’m not. Your pa sent me to pick up a few things he ordered.” With a huff, he turned his attention to the clerk. “Are they here, Percy?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Ty. Got those nails and rope in yesterday, same time as I got the new Colt Miz Ellie is holding.”

Ellie promptly laid the gun back on the counter. “I was just curious, that’s all.” She gave Percy a stern look then walked over to the yard goods.

“But…Miz Ellie, you asked…”

Ellie didn’t want him to spill the beans. “I came to look at material for a new dress, Percy. You must have misunderstood me.”

“But-but,” he stuttered. “You asked to see a sidearm.”

She forced a giggle and ignored the confusion on the clerk’s face. Ellie fluttered her eyelashes at him and waved a limp wrist in his direction. “Oh, Percy, you silly goose, why would I say that? I said I need some yardage—just a might longer than my arm. When you showed me the new guns, I didn’t want to appear rude.”

Thanks for stopping by, and kook for Sarah's Heart and Time Tantrums on their free days next Saturday.