Blurb:
Hope Stockton’s life is dead, frozen in a winter of guilt, deceit, and fear. When
handsome young pastor, Josh Lewis, comes to serve in her church, she wonders if
she can trust him with her past. Will he be able to help her answer the
questions that have been buried in her heart for years? Or will his own secrets
drive them apart and prevent him from helping Hope find her spring of
forgiveness?
Set in small town Texas in the years during and following the Vietnam war, Season of Hope is a story of forgiveness and restoration.
Set in small town Texas in the years during and following the Vietnam war, Season of Hope is a story of forgiveness and restoration.
Short Extract:
He
crossed off the last entry on the list. When he’d vowed to do
this, he’d had no idea it would be so difficult. He’d
called every entry in the phone book and every additional number he’d
gotten from Information with no success.
He
didn’t
have enough money to hire a private investigator, and even if he had the funds,
he may not have enough information for the detective to be successful.
As
the evening sun shone through the gap between his bedroom curtains, the gold
chain and pendant sparkled as if mocking his efforts. Opening the small Bible,
he placed the necklace back between its pages and slowly folded the covers
closed.
He
was tired. Tired of war, tired of loss, tired of failure.
Father,
it’s in Your hands now. I’ve
done all I know to do.
Longer Extract:
As adrenaline surged through
her body, Hope pushed her head back against the car seat and waited for the
shaking to subside.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Her knuckles actually were
white from gripping the steering wheel so hard in the battle to keep the car on
the road. She glanced up into the rearview mirror. How Mattie had slept through
the exploding tire was incomprehensible. The car had swerved from one side of
the road to the other as it fishtailed and made a one hundred eighty degree
turn. And yet, he slept.
But he was OK—they both were
OK—and that was all that mattered.
The music of Elton John‘s latest hit filled the car.
She pried her fingers from the wheel and, hand trembling, reached over and
turned the radio off.
“Mattie,
wake up, honey.”
Mattie sat up, rubbed his
eyes, and looked out the window. “We’re not at the
church.” Sleepy confusion clouded his face.
“No. Not
yet. We’re on the back road
to Crescent Bluff, baby. We had a flat tire, so I need you to take a couple of
your cars and go sit under that tree over there while I change it, OK?”
“Can
I help you?”
“No. It’s too dangerous.”
“But,
Mommy…”
“No arguing,
Mattie. Please, just obey me.”
Pushing open the door, he
grabbed some cars and then tramped up the small rise and plopped down under a
live oak. He wasn’t happy, but he was
doing as she’d asked. He’d always been obedient.
She pulled the owner’s manual from the glove
compartment. The gravel along the shoulder crunched underfoot as she walked
back to the trunk of the car. Years ago, when she'd first gotten her driver’s license, Dad had made her
change a tire—just so she’d know how. That
was the one and only time she’d ever done it, but
she was pretty sure she remembered all the steps. How hard could it be, anyway?
It was just a matter of unscrewing and re-screwing a few nuts and swapping out
a tire.
She opened the trunk and
lifted up the carpeting and the cover under it to expose the spare tire. Now
she needed to find the jack and that wrench thing. There they were. She pulled
them out of the trunk and placed them on the ground.
The lug nuts that held the
spare in place came off easily with the lug wrench, but getting the tire out
and not rubbing it against her sundress would be a trick. She took an old towel
that was in the trunk, draped it over the tire, lifted it out, and then dropped
it on the ground. So far, so good. She glanced up at Mattie. He was still
sitting under the tree.
“Excuse
me.”
She jumped and peeked around
the trunk lid. A tall man wearing gray pants, a white dress shirt, and black
wing-tip shoes stood by the front of her car. A black Mercedes was parked on
the shoulder of the road several yards away. It was older, but still one of the
expensive models. She’d been so engrossed
in getting the tire out that she hadn’t even heard the
car pull up.
“Do
you need some help?”
Here she was, on a deserted
Texas road in the middle of nowhere with her five-year-old son. No houses
within several miles, no service stations with pay phones where she could call
for help. And now this stranger shows up. If she’d been alone, the answer would have been an easy “yes.” But Mattie was with her, and she couldn’t let anything happen to him.
Mr. Preppy had dark brown
hair, a bit long on top, and the most striking blue eyes she’d ever seen. The combination
was surprisingly attractive. He was handsome enough, all right, but he was also
completely unfamiliar.
Crescent Bluff was a fairly
small town, and she’d lived here long
enough to know just about everyone. He wasn’t from around here. She definitely would have remembered those
Texas-winter-sky eyes. As he smiled, goose bumps covered her arms. That should
have been an impossibility in ninety-degree Texas spring weather.
“Are
you OK? I was a ways behind you, but I saw what happened. You did a great job
keeping the car on the road and out of the ditch. You could have really been
hurt.”
He was right. They were late,
and she’d been going way
too fast on this little country road when the tire blew. The outcome could have
been tragically different. As the emotions she’d been trying to keep under control suddenly burst loose, tears filled
her eyes. Maybe he’d think they were
from the acrid smell of burnt rubber still lingering in the air. Quickly
looking away, she took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”
“I
imagine the whole thing was pretty scary. Why don’t you let me change that tire for you?”
If only she’d agreed to go to the church
early with Dee, they wouldn’t be in this
situation in the first place.
“I
appreciate your offer, but I’m perfectly capable
of changing a tire,” she answered with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. “This won’t be the first time I’ve had to. I’m sure I can handle it just
fine.” More than anything, she wanted him gone.
“Mommy,
who’s that?” Mattie
tugged on the hem of her dress.
“Mattie,
go back to the tree and stay there.”
The stranger’s eyes widened. “I didn’t realize you had a passenger
with you.” He bent down and smiled at Mattie. “Hello there, young man. How’re you?”
Mattie’s brow creased. He
looked first at Hope and then back at the man. “My mommy won’t let me talk to strangers.”
Hope’s face burned with embarrassment. She certainly didn’t want to offend this man who’d stopped to help. But then
again, she didn’t know him, and
people couldn’t be too careful
nowadays. Especially after last week when that woman and her daughter from Waco
were assaulted by a man who’d offered them a
ride when their truck ran out of gas. He’d been driving a black car, and the police still hadn’t caught him.
“Your
mother’s a very wise
woman. That’s a good rule to
have.” The man stepped toward them and then knelt down on one knee, smiled, and
held out his hand. “Let me introduce myself so we’re not strangers. I’m Josh.”
Mattie grinned, took the
stranger’s hand, and pumped
it up and down. “Hi, Mr. Doss. My name’s Mattie.”
“Nice
to meet you, Mattie. Now we know each other.” The ex-stranger winked, stood,
and turned toward Hope. “Now, how about that tire?”
She grabbed Mattie’s hand and pulled him back
beside her. “Thanks for the offer, but we’re fine. Besides, it looks as if you’re headed to some appointment, and I certainly wouldn’t want to hold you up.”
When he glanced at his watch,
the gold emblem on the face shone in the afternoon sun. If he was a criminal,
he was a successful one.
That was an unsettling thought.
“I’ve got time.”
“Well,
Josh, I don’t. I hope you won’t think me rude, but I’m in a hurry, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to get
this done.”
Giving her a thumbs-up with
his right hand, he smiled again. “Gotcha. Well, I guess I’ll head on. Nice to meet you, Mattie, and you, too, Mattie’s Mom.”
“Bye, Mr. Doss.”
Josh waved and then walked
back toward his car, his shape distorted by the heat waves rising from the
asphalt. The car, the clothes, the watch. Not many men his age around these
parts could afford stuff like that.
Maybe Mattie sitting by the
tree wasn’t such a good idea.
She wouldn’t be able to see
him while she was changing the tire. “Mattie, you can come here with me as long
as you sit in the grass and stay off the shoulder of the road.”
“Thanks,
Mommy.”
As the Mercedes inched past
them, Josh’s voice sounded
through the open window, “Don’t forget to place the jack in the slot.”
“Oh,
the slot. Yeah, sure, the slot. Absolutely.” She stood stone still. She wouldn’t position the jack with him
watching.
“It’s closer in.”
Suddenly her mind and her
heart began arguing. She didn’t need to prove
anything. She could change this tire if she really had to, but she didn’t. Josh seemed very willing.
Yet, she didn’t know him. He did
have a black car—of course, so did millions of other men—and she couldn’t take a chance with Mattie’s safety. He was all she had
left.
But then if something happened
and she got hurt or she couldn’t change the tire,
being stranded out here might prove more dangerous than taking a chance with
Josh.
“But
I’m sure you knew
that.”
“Knew
what?”
“About
the slot.”
“Oh,
of course.” As he began to roll up his window, she blurted out, “Wait. I think
maybe I’ve changed my
mind.”
“Your
prerogative.” He grinned as he pulled forward and back off onto the shoulder of
the road. He stepped out of the car and removed his dress shirt. His form-fitting
white t-shirt accentuated muscles the roomy Oxford cloth shirt had hidden.
She glanced at his license
plate and committed it to memory. Taking Mattie’s hand, she bent down and looked him straight in the eyes. “Mr. Josh is
going to change the tire for us. You stay right beside me, sweetie.” She forced
herself to smile and kept her voice even so he wouldn’t see she was nervous.
As Josh squatted down to
position the jack, Mattie jerked free from Hope’s grip and jumped over beside him. Taking in every movement, Mattie
asked, “Whatcha doing? Can I watch?”
“Mattie,
leave Mr. Josh alone.” Her voice sounded strained even to her own ears. She
moved to bring Mattie back.
Josh flashed a smile up at
her. “He’s fine.” He turned to
Mattie. “In fact, I could use some help. How about if you hold the lug nuts for
me? We don’t want to lose
them.”
He must be used to being
around children. Maybe he had some of his own. She glanced at his left hand to
see if he was married. She’d be less nervous
if he was. No ring, but that didn’t really mean
anything. Some married men never wore a wedding band.
Josh seemed nice enough, but a
cautious voice sounded in her mind. Letting her guard down could get them in
trouble. She’d never forgive
herself if she lost Mattie. Her breathing matched her racing heart. He was too
close to “Mr. Doss.”
“Mattie,
did you hear me? We need to go back over to the shoulder right now, young man!”
“But,
Mom, Mr. Doss needs me to help him.”
“Mattie…" She reached down to take his hand.
“It’s OK. Thanks,
buddy. You better mind your mom. I’ll be done in a
minute.”
Frowning, Mattie put down the
lug nuts and trudged over to the side of the road with her. He pulled his hand
free, plopped down a few feet away, and sulked.
Besides being muscular, Josh
was very tall, well over six feet. She was five ten, and he towered over her.
She couldn’t protect Mattie if
she needed to. If they’d been in Dee’s truck, she could have used
the pistol in the glove compartment. But they weren’t.
If Josh were going to harm
them, he probably wouldn’t go to the trouble
to change the tire. She searched the roadside for something she could use as a
weapon should she need one.
Josh already had the spare
tire on. Obviously, he’d done this before.
He reached for the lug wrench and tightened the bolts. Turning back toward her,
Josh smiled. ‚Almost done. You’ll need to get some air in
that spare. You can drive it for a short distance, but it’s pretty low.‛ He set the lug
wrench down, picked up the jack and the blown tire, and threw them into the
trunk.
Hope grabbed the lug wrench
and hid it behind her back.
When Josh returned, he scanned
the ground. “Let’s see. Where’d I put…”
“Um,
thank you very much for your help. I’m sorry you got so
dirty. Here, you can use this to wipe off.” She tossed him the towel to avoid
stepping any closer.
As he caught it, his gaze went
toward her right hand.
She pulled the wrench farther
behind her.
His forehead wrinkled, and he
opened his mouth as if to speak but then stopped. Instead, he smiled, cleared
his throat, and took a few steps back.
Her heart rate slowed as the
space between them widened.
“Thanks
for the towel. This’ll be fine until I
can get to a service station to wash up.” He moved away from her toward the back
of her car and slammed the trunk lid shut.
“Can
I pay you something for your trouble?”
“I
wouldn’t dream of it. Just
wanted to help. If my sister and her son had gotten stranded like this, I hope
someone would’ve stopped. You
know, this day and time, stopping to help people can be dangerous. You have to
be careful. You just never know what might happen. Take care.” He tossed back
the towel.
Josh smiled, and turned toward
Mattie. “Bye, buddy. Thanks for your help.” He raised his hand to his forehead
in a relaxed salute.
Mattie stood and saluted back.
“Bye, Mr. Doss.”
Josh walked back to his car,
climbed in, and headed on down the highway toward Crescent Bluff.
Relief flooded over her as she
vacillated between laughing and crying. She tossed the wrench and towel onto
the back floorboard, and then she and Mattie climbed into the car to head
toward the church.
If she hadn’t promised Lynn and Dee she’d come to the dinner, she
would’ve turned around
and gone back home. She hadn’t wanted to go to
church tonight in the first place, and now she would be late to meet the new
pastor.
Buy links:
Author Interview
What was the most surprising thing you
learned about yourself as you wrote this book? That
I could even string words together to make a story. Season of Hope was
the first manuscript I ever wrote. It resulted from a life-changing event
during which God called me into writing—a ministry which I would have never
sought or desired.
What was the best money you ever spent for
your writing career? I have to say purchasing my
MacAir computer. I absolutely love it! It’s nice and small and I can take it
everywhere with me. All of my manuscripts have been written on it. I know it’s
going to die one of these days, and I’ll have to replace it, but it’s been a
good friend over the years. The best ongoing expense I have are dues for
membership to professional writing groups. The advice and information I
received over the years is unbelievably valuable, especially to writers who are
just starting out. The information you learn and the training you receive are
worth more that the money your spend on dues.
What does literary success look like to you? After my first novel, Rescuing Faith, was released a
gentleman at church came up and hugged me. With tears in his eyes, he said, “My
daughter has been going through the same issue as your heroine, and the book
gave her hope. Thank you.” So is there any amount of fame or fortune that can
outweigh that? Not in my mind.
How could reading your readers’ reviews and
comments help you? Reviews are the lifeblood of
publishing and book sales. When readers take the time to read my book and write
a review, I am honored to read every one. I often find them helpful in
understanding what readers are looking for in books and what things I did well,
and in what areas I need to improve.
Have you met any of your favorite authors?
What was the moment like?
Oh, yes. One of my favorite authors is Karen
Kingsbury. Her books showed me that Christian writers can, and should, deal
with the messiness of life that our readers are living. My oldest daughter took
me to one of Karen’s book signings. I stood in line wondering what to say, and
hoping I wouldn’t be tongue-tied. I prayed, and when my turn came, I blurted
out, “I love your writing. In fact, your work has inspired me to begin writing.
But I imagine you hear that all the time.” She smiled and graciously answered,
“No one has ever told me that before.” She spent the next few minutes asking me
questions about my writing and my manuscripts. Then she handed me one of her
business cards. Her encouragement was instrumental in my receiving my first
writing contract.
Is it true that being a published author is
glamorous? Why or why not? As I sit in my office
writing this in the middle of the night in my white fluffy bathrobe and
shearling slippers, wondering when I’m going to get the dishes done or the
floors mopped, my answer is, “Ha, ha, ha…no.” But I wouldn’t trade it for any
other job in the world. Having the opportunity to show God’s faithful and
steadfast love in the lives of his children is more exciting and rewarding than
any glamorous job could ever be.
How does your faith affect your writing? I love writing inspirational, redemptive romances. Once a man asked
me how my romances differed from regular old romances. I told him mine had
three main characters—a hero, a heroine, and God. Not only do my characters
grow in relationship with each other, but also with God. My main purpose in
writing is to communicate a characteristic of the heart of God. For instance in
Season of Hope, Hope must come to learn that NOTHING can separate her
from the steadfast love of God. I build my plot lines around at least one Bible
verse and one hymn or Christian song.
If you could be a fictional character from
literature for one day, who would you be and why? I’d
be Jo from LittleWomen. I was raised in a military family, so obeying
the rules and following guidelines was expected. Jo was such a creative,
self-assured non-conformist. As a child, I loved that about her and wished I
could be more of a rule-bender. Yes, I think I’d still choose Jo today.
If you were a pair shoes, what style, brand,
and color would you be? I’d be a pair of black
Sanuk flip-flops. They’re comfortable, waterproof, and you can dress them up or
dress them down. And, black goes with any color.
What did you edit out of this book and why? This book contains a chapter that is a dream sequence in which Hope
recalls an incident with her first love, Nate. In the original manuscript, four
chapters were dedicated to her memories of him. I submitted the manuscript for
a contest, and several of the judges made negative comments about the amount of
backstory about Nate. One in particular said, “I was so confused! Just about
the time I began rooting for Hope and Josh, this Nate guys shows up. Which
couple is this story about? Hope and Josh, or Hope and Nate?” The last thing I
want the reader to feel is confused or conflicted. So, three chapters were
slashed, and the judges were right. It’s a better story.
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Amazon: https://amzn.to/3duHqKc
Comments
Love the excerpts and blurb - your book sounds amazing
Good luck and God's blessings
PamT