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Clare writes inspirational romance, usually of a suspenseful nature. Her books are available through her publisher Pelican Book Group and Amazon. She is married with three kids and lives in the UK. She loves watching sci-fi, crime drama, cross stitching, reading and baking.

Saturday, 23 November 2013

Fairytale of Headley Cross



Christmas is a busy time in the church calendar, and Pastor Carson Armitage still trying to find his feet in his first job as an ordained minister. When he decides to organize a nativity for Christmas Eve, he employs the help of Maggie Turner, Sunday school teacher extraordinaire. She’s dedicated, smart and beautifu; and Carson finds himself falling for her. But when his past comes back to haunt him in a big way, Christmas may not be so merry.

Can the past be laid to rest? Or is happily ever after only a fairytale? 

Extract:

Carson headed across the hall to the lady that Trudi had pointed out. Too late he realized he didn’t know if she were a Miss or a Mrs. And after last time, he wasn’t going to call anyone Ms. Well, whatever her title, she was a stunning woman. Perhaps she was a little on the willowy side, but with curves in all the right places.

She looked familiar. He’d seen her before. Well, obviously. In church on a Sunday he chided himself.
Carson sneaked a look at her left hand as she draped her coat over the back of a chair. “Miss Turner?”

She turned and looked at him. “Yes?”

He held out a hand, her voice familiar, but he was sure he hadn’t spoken to her before today. “I’m Carson Armitage. I understand you organize and teach the Sunday School classes for the children.”

Her eyes flickered for a moment. He could almost see her mind whirling as if trying to place him. Just like the way his mind was trying to work out where he’d seen and heard her before. And it wasn’t from church either. It was somewhere else.

“Yes, I do. It means missing the service each Sunday morning, but I try to make the evening ones.”

“That’s good to hear.” He paused. “This is going to sound really corny, but have we met?”

“You have a dog,” she said absently. “I’ve seen you in the park. You’re Mr. Border Collie.”

Of course. The blonde woman who was so upset earlier that afternoon. “Miss Sheltie. But it’s more than that. I’m sure I’ve heard your voice before. Have we spoken on the phone or something like that?”
His voice died in his throat. That was it.

Color flooded her face. Had she made the connection at the same instant he had? “Oh, no. Please tell me I didn’t ring you this afternoon by mistake.”

“I wish I could, but, yes, I’m afraid you rang the church office and I answered the phone.”

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