Monday, November 20, 2017

Shattered Memories by Debbie Lynne Costello ends 11/27


Hope you enjoy the first chapter of Shattered Memories. Read on down to find out how to enter to win the book!

Chapter 1

Charleston, South Carolina, August 30th, 1886
“Why can’t you have him arrested and demand our money back?” Olivia Macqueen frowned at her brother. It seemed a simple enough solution. She shuddered at the thought of once being engaged to the detestable man they now discussed.
Simon gave her a placating smile but his eyes didn’t dance as they would if the smile were true. “It’d be bad for business.”
Olivia shifted on the floral tapestry chair across from where Papa sat holding Mama’s hand. “Why? He deserves that and worse.”
Papa cleared his throat. “We could lose all confidence with our policyholders if they learned that one of our employees had embezzled funds.”
Simon sneered. “You mean if they found out they weren’t even real policyholders. This could ruin our family name and our business. I wish I’d never talked you into hiring Lloyd. Then he’d never have swindled us—” He stole a quick glance at Olivia, his eyes pleading forgiveness. “I’m sorry.”
Olivia’s throat went dry. Of late, it had been easy to forget what Lloyd Pratt had done to her. With the attention her brother’s old friend, Drew, had been lavishing on her, Lloyd had faded to an unpleasant memory. “Nothing to forgive. He means nothing to me now. Besides, his unfaithfulness was actually a blessing in disguise. I’d hate to have married such a scoundrel. And I wouldn’t have gotten to know Drew.” However, breaking the engagement with Lloyd had angered him so much that he had taken his fury out on her, requiring her to seek medical attention.
“Drew?” Simon wiggled his brows, mischief playing behind his mock surprise. “When did you start calling Dr. Warwick by his Christian name?”
Heat rushed to Olivia’s cheeks. Simon could be such a pest with his teasing. He knew very well she’d been calling Drew by his Christian name for some time. It was only around her father she’d avoided using it. Father had always felt the need to coddle her and Mother, more so after Lloyd had hurt her. No need for him to worry that she might have her heart broke again. “Do I really need to answer that, Simon?”
Simon chuckled, his eyes dancing. “I do believe my little sis is blushing. I think she’s smitten with my dear friend.”
Olivia pretended to glare at Simon. “I believe we have a more pressing matter at hand—seeing Mr. Lloyd Pratt gets his comeuppance.”
Papa stood and paced the parlor floor, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned, creases appearing between his brows. The gray sprinkled throughout his dark brown hair softened his features and gave him a distinguished appearance. “Simon’s right. We’ve got to handle this with utmost care. If word got out it could ruin us. And we don’t know how many people he wrote fake policies for or what other ways he may have embezzled.” He stopped and looked at his son. “How could we have missed this for a year?”
Simon brushed his fingers down his mustache. “It’s my fault. I should have gone over the books with a fine-toothed comb. Any man who can’t be trusted in one area can’t be trusted in others as well.”
“I suppose it would have been difficult to find missing policies or false claims without knowing what you were looking for.” Papa sighed and resumed his pacing,
“I should have suspected. After the cyclone of ’85 there were questions. Remember we had several people claiming to have policies that we could never find? I should have investigated then rather than letting Lloyd handle it.”
“He said it was just an error in the books and he’d taken care of it. We’d heard no more complaints. There was no reason to doubt his honesty at that point. What is done is done.” Papa returned to his seat next to Mama. “Tomorrow, first thing, we need to find out which clients are without policies and get them posted.”
Simon leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs, hands dangling between his knees. “Do you know how much money that could take?”
“I don’t care if it takes our last penny. I’ll not have our good name in tatters.” Papa shot the words back like the kick of a rifle.
Mama, who never involved herself with Papa’s business affairs, picked up the fan suspended from her wrist and waved it in front of her face. Her dark blonde hair pulled back in a chignon set off her high cheekbones and her flawless skin. Olivia had been told often enough that Mama looked less like her mother and more like an older sister. Her beautiful face was now pinched with worry.
Olivia dragged her gaze away from her distraught mother and let it fall on her father. “I don’t understand why we have to suffer for what that dreadful man did. Why can’t we go to the authorities and ask them to keep the information private? Surely they would understand our dilemma.”
Papa gave her a patronizing smile, and she knew if she’d been within arm’s reach, he’d have patted her hand. “One thing I’ve learned in life, Olivia, is that if you tell someone your secret, it is no longer a secret.”
“But Mr. Pratt should have to pay for this. It’s not right that he walk away with no consequences and a large portion of our money.”
Still leaning forward, Simon fisted his hands. “Oh, he’ll pay all right and there will be consequences. I’ll see to that. Did he think he’d never get caught? He’s lucky that none of the people he stole policy money from have come to file a claim.”
Papa stood and took Mama’s hand, helping her up from the settee. “Enough of this for tonight. We’re upsetting your mother.” He gazed down into his wife’s eyes with so much love that Olivia’s heart hiccupped. Drew’s face came into view. She imagined the two of them sharing that kind of intimate love. The thought of spending her life with the man she loved warmed her.
When her parents had left the room, Olivia leaned in toward her brother and whispered. “So, what are you going to do about this?”
Simon stretched and yawned. “Tomorrow I’m going to try to make sure every client has an active policy.”
“You know very well that isn’t what I mean.”
He winked. “I plan to find the proof we need if it’s the last thing I do.”
♥♥♥
Dr. Andrew Warwick left the hospital after checking on a patient and sauntered down Mazyck Street, unable to get his mind off Olivia, his best friend’s sister. When they were young boys, he and Simon saw Olivia as a nuisance—someone they could annoy when bored. Then they grew up and Drew’s medical studies occupied all his time. Simon took on responsibilities of his own, and they rarely spent time together.
But when Olivia showed up in his office last year seeking medical attention, he could hardly believe this was the little sprite he’d delighted in tormenting as a boy. She’d grown into a beautiful woman.
Drew gave in to his impulse, passed Meeting Street and turned down Church Street, heading toward the Macqueen house. It had taken him almost the whole year to gain her trust, and he knew why. After looking at her injuries, her story of taking a bad spill hadn’t rang true. He’d recognized the telltale signs of abuse even if she’d denied it.
Thinking about the late hour, he quickened his pace. He would continue past the house if the windows were dark. But if lights did shine, he’d visit under the pretense of seeing Simon as it was a bit late to visit a young lady. Having a good friend with a beautiful sister one loved was indeed an advantage.
The Macqueen’s home came into view. Lights blazed from the windows, casting yellow beams onto the lawn. Taking the steps two at a time, Drew couldn’t help but smile—the perfect way to end his night. He tapped lightly, and a few moments later the door opened. To his disappointment, Simon stood before him, a cocky grin on his face.
“Drew, how nice of you to come see me.” Simon leaned his shoulder against the frame.
“After a long day at work, I thought your charming personality would brighten my evening.” Drew grinned back and strained his neck to see beyond the slim body blocking his view.
“Looking for something?” Simon’s eyes glittered with mischief.
The sound of swishing fabric emerged. “Simon Macqueen, have you no manners? Invite our guest in.” His lovely Olivia looked as ferocious as an angry nurse when taking on an unruly patient.
“He’s my guest. I may not want him in the house.” Simon winked at him.
She pushed past her brother, giving him a playful slap on his arm, and smiled past him. “I’m sorry, Drew. My brother has the manners of a boar.”
Drew sidled past his best friend. “Shall we put him out with the rest of the herd?”
The tinkle of her laughter floated on the air like sweet music.
“Just you try. I can still take you down.” Simon’s words followed the couple. “And let’s not forget you two need a chaperone.”
Drew snorted. “I’m certain you were the one yelling ‘uncle’ the last time we had this discussion.”
Olivia intercepted. “Really, now. You’d think you two were still schoolboys, the way you carry on.” She took a seat by the window and arranged her dress.
Simon elbowed Drew. “You heard my sister— behave yourself.”
Drew took a seat across from her where he could easily take in Olivia’s beauty and put an end to the bantering.
Simon was always full of himself. That was part of the fun of being around him when they were young. But right now, Simon’s sister captured all of his attention.
Olivia rubbed her arm above her wrist. He couldn’t help but wonder if it still pained her. Her hand slid down to her bracelet dangling on her wrist, and she fingered it. Why was she nervous tonight? His gut twisted. Would she say yes to his proposal? He’d planned a very special Friday evening when he’d ask for her hand in marriage.
He gave her a soothing smile. “I’m pleased you’re still up. Seeing you has brightened my long day.”
She lifted her head and locked eyes with Drew, the corners of her mouth lifting. “As you have mine.” Her gaze shifted toward Simon, then back to Drew.
“I thought I was the one who had bright—”
Drew shot Simon a warning glare that stopped his good-natured friend midsentence. He wished he could be alone with Olivia, but that was not appropriate. Someone had to be a chaperone, but Simon was like a boisterous puppy.
“I’m looking forward to our special day Friday.” That was an understatement. He’d been counting down the days eagerly. She didn’t appear nervous now. His fear of her saying no was getting the best of him.
“As am I, Drew.” Her lashes fluttered.
His heart stuttered. He loved to hear his name on her lips. He’d never tire of it. Spending the rest of his life with Olivia couldn’t happen soon enough. She had to say yes when he asked her.
“Am I invited?” Simon teased.
“No.” Olivia glared at her brother.
Sweet mercy, she was beautiful. Light brown tendrils escaped the hair pulled up into one of the latest fashions. Beautiful brows arched over almond-shaped blue-gray eyes—eyes that breached his heart and soul. He caught himself right before he let out a sigh.
Simon cleared his throat. “Are you going to just sit there gawking at my sister?”
Olivia’s cheeks turned crimson, but she quickly turned to Drew. “Did you hear about the earthquakes that were felt in Summerville?”
Drew jumped in before Simon could remark. “I read an interview in the News and Courier. A Summerville resident was said to have heard a rumbling sound northeast of town, which was followed by an explosion that sounded like a cannon. But many are skeptical.”
Animation lit her face. “Some are saying a boiler probably blew at one of the numerous phosphate works, or someone was blowing up trees with dynamite.”
“I suppose it’s entirely possible that a tremor was felt. Time will tell.” He leaned forward. “What do you think?” He already surmised what her answer would be.
“I think too many people felt it for it to be some sort of an explosion. Some say that even Charleston felt the tremors. That’s too far for it to be anything other than an earthquake.”
Simon grinned. “Well, it caused a buzz that will keep Charleston talking for a few days anyway. Maybe we’ll get some more clients out of it.”
Olivia gave her brother a look that Drew couldn’t quite decipher. Simon only shrugged.
♥♥♥
The next evening after Drew’s visit, Olivia sat in the parlor with her parents. She drew the needle up through the handkerchief she embroidered thinking about the camaraderie that her brother and Drew had shared the night before. “Simon sure flew out of here. You’d think he was late to see his lady love.”
Mama peeked up from her needlework. “If the boy ever finds one. I’m ready for grandchildren.”
“You can’t rush love. I learned that.” A shiver slivered down Olivia’s spine at the thought of Lloyd. She’d questioned if she would ever fall in love again after what Lloyd had done to her. He’d definitely hurt her in more ways than she could count. The welcome thought of Drew quickly replaced the unpleasant memory. She smiled inwardly. She wouldn’t mind giving her mother the first grandchild.
When she and Drew first started courting, doubt had harried her. As a little girl, dread would fill her when she saw him with her brother. The two of them together were as mean as cross-eyed snakes. Like the time they’d tied her shoes together while she napped in a chair, then stole her doll, woke her up and ran. When she jumped up to go after them, she fell flat on her face. The two laughed and disappeared with her doll. It took her the whole day to find where they’d hidden it.
Boys and tomfoolery must go hand in hand. Her brother now was a perfect gentleman, albeit a character—he’d never intentionally harm anyone. Surely Drew was the same. The two boys’ pranks were just that, childish pranks. She hated the way doubt tried to nudge its way into her thoughts. She needed to keep reminding herself that Drew was a doctor and had taken an oath to help people. He was nothing like Lloyd even if she’d known Lloyd for years and never thought him capable of the things that he did.
“Your brother rushed out of here to finish up some late night business,” Papa replied to her question.
“Did you get the policies written and posted?” Olivia inquired.
“We hope we were able to track them all down. Simon’s gone to check on a few loose ends.”
“Ouch!” Mama pricked her finger.
“Are you all right, dear?” Papa’s tender voice inquired.
Mama nodded and dabbed her finger on a handkerchief.
Papa pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s nine fifty.”
Olivia folded the white handkerchief she’d been working on and placed it in the basket beside the settee. She stretched her arms as she stood. “I think I’ll head to bed and curl up with Pride and Prejudice.” She waved her hand in front of her face to give herself some temporary relief from the heat. The sultry day hadn’t been relieved by an evening breeze. The curtains hung limp as an unusual stillness filled the air.

She reached the archway and turned to say goodnight. A long low rumble drifted in through the window as if a heavily-laden horse-drawn wagon approached on the street. But within seconds, the low rumble turned into a terrifying roar. The floor rolled beneath her feet. She grasped the archway wall. The whole house swayed as if dancing to the horrendous thunder. The chimney buckled and bricks spit forward like a child tossing blocks to the floor. A scream caught in her throat. Papa threw himself over Mama, his eyes locked with Olivia’s. Pain splintered through her head as her knees buckled beneath her.

Giveaway:
 
If you enjoyed reading the first chapter of Shattered Memories, tell me why you'd like to read the book to be entered in the giveaway. 


Debbie Lynne Costello has enjoyed writing stories since she was eight years old. She raised her family and then embarked on her own career of writing the stories that had been begging to be told. She and her husband have four children and live in upstate South Carolina. She has worked in many capacities in her church and is currently the Children's Director. Debbie Lynne has shown and raised Shetland Sheepdogs for eighteen years and still enjoys litters now and then. In their spare time, she and her husband take pleasure in camping and riding their Arabian and Tennessee Walking horses.

Monday, November 13, 2017

3 books by Autographed books by Anne Greene Ends November 20

Please Welcome Anne back to my blog. Anne is giving away 3 autographed books so be sure to read on down on how to enter. Don't forget to leave your email address and if you are a feedburner follower be sure to let me now for a second entry.  

 
EXCERPT – AVOIDING THE MISTLETOE

1865 – Lowell, Massachusetts

Olivia Rose Baker glanced up from the headlines in the Massachusetts Matrimonial Gazette. With an explosive smack, she slapped the newspaper on top of the breakfast table. “No! I refuse. I absolutely, unconditionally reject this lame-brained scheme!” She set her mouth in a hard line to keep her lips from trembling.

“You’ve been a widow for six months, dear sister, and take a look around you. The war wrecked our town. The men are dead, never to return. The economy is ruined. With the South destroyed they can’t send us any cotton for our textile mills. And without slaves, the South may never recover. Lowell is a ghost town of devastated women, alone with no men to provide for us or offer us protection. No men to give us children.” Darcy strode around the kitchen, her red hair flying, her green eyes ablaze. “No men to love.”

“Please don’t speak to me of love.” Olivia gazed down at the slice of bread and the cup of weak coffee that would have to satisfy her empty stomach throughout the long day until dinner tonight.

“Pshaw! So, Howard Baker didn’t have enough love in his heart to share with you. Not every man is so self-centered and abusive.” Darcy settled into a chair at the table, wet her fingertips, smooshed up the few remaining bread crumbs from her plate, and licked them into her mouth.

“Darcy Davenport, I never told you Howard mistreated me.” Olivia glared daggers at her sister, then nibbled her bread, her stomach rumbling.

“I saw the bruises you tried to hide. I’m no Simple Simon.” Darcy snatched the newspaper and shoved the sheets over. “This Asa Mercer already successfully shipped a boatload of women to Seattle, Washington Territory. He states the ladies all celebrated excellent marriages.” Darcy pointed to some lines of print. “The paper says right here that Mr. Mercer isn’t searching for just any women as mail-order brides. He’s seeking high-minded women who can exert an elevating influence in Seattle, where there are ten men for every woman. Mail-order brides, yes, but of a certain caliber.”

“A mail-order bride is a mail-order bride. You meet a man and if he looks at all decent—that is if he’s not too old, not too rotund, not too bald, and not too poor, then you decide to marry him.” Olivia shoved back her empty plate. “I will never rush into a marriage with a tall, good-looking, and supposedly prosperous male again.” She sipped her tepid coffee. If only she had a smidgen of cream or sugar. “A war bride is not dissimilar to a mail-order bride. Besides, look at me.” She gestured from her face to her toes. “No man wants to marry a widow without means.”

Darcy stamped her button-down shoed foot. “But I want to become one of Mr. Mercer’s mail-order brides. And I won’t move to Seattle without you!”

Olivia gazed past Darcy’s bouncy curls, out the window at the back yard draped in an overcast day that promised even more rain. The overgrown weeds and mud-coated garden with a few wilted stalks of corn poking through the unworked soil attested to the fact that no man had inhabited their salt box style home for over four years. The rumpled tool shed appeared to be held up by their weeping willow tree. If one leaned too hard on the other, both would fall. Their back porch had already collapsed.

“Mr. Mercer wants to populate Seattle with women who will bring culture, education and domesticity to that uncivilized city with thousands…of…single…men.” Darcy’s emerald eyes transformed from flashing to pleading. “Face facts, Olivia Rose, this might be our one chance to marry.”

“I repeat. I don’t want to wed. I didn’t find marriage at all agreeable. I am so happy Howard didn’t leave me with child when he marched away with Captain Joshua Chamberlain’s Union Regiment.” Olivia tried to keep the anger from her voice. No amount of prayer had erased her animosity toward her late husband.

“So, you prefer, at your young age, to remain a widow for the rest of your life? You don’t want children?” Darcy leaned across the table. Her warm fingers grasped Olivia’s wrist, her heart-shaped face intent. “Olivia Rose, I’m pouring my heart out here.”

Olivia sighed and pushed her chair back from the table. So very difficult to deny her younger sister. And until she married Howard, she’d badly wanted children too.

“You prefer to remain here, despite Lowell’s bleak prospects? You expect to remain here in our house that is falling down around our heads? A house we can’t even sell because no one has money enough to buy it, even if they wanted this old wreck.” Tears rose in Darcy’s minty-green eyes. “You choose to remain in Massachusetts even though you know I won’t ever find a husband here. You want me to remain a spinster my entire life!”

A black curtain strangled Olivia’s heart. She rose and wrapped her arms around her sister’s rigid shoulders. “Darling, you know I would do anything for you. Except I refuse to become a mail-order bride.”

Darcy gazed up, her pearl-fresh complexion wet with tears. “Mr. Mercer promised some of the women would garner positions as school teachers. I know you would like that.”

Olivia’s heartbeat quickened. Yes, she would enjoy a position as a teacher. She could influence, teach, and love children without needing to have any of her own. She would have a job, be self-sufficient, and not rely on any man. And Darcy would gain her chance at happiness.

She bowed her head. Truly Lowell offered nothing for either of them except hunger, need, and loneliness. “Are you certain Mr. Mercer advertised for teachers as well as mail-order brides?”

Darcy pointed to the last sentence in the newspaper clipping.

There are many teaching positions available for prospective brides.

A tad cryptic, but she couldn’t jeopardize Darcy’s future by refusing to accept this possibly only opportunity to leave her dying town. A vision of herself and Darcy popped up. Bent with age, hobbling around their tumbled-down home, hair white. Both of them as ramshackle as the house, with nothing to show for the lives they spent. Olivia’s heart bled.

She forced a smile. “Consider this my Christmas present to you, Darcy. We shall travel to Seattle, though we know nothing about the place. And you shall select a suitable husband, and I shall accept a teaching position. And may God bless us and keep us.”

“Oh, Olivia Rose, I knew you would agree to go! Thank you so much for the best Christmas present I’ve ever received!” Her sister’s eyes turned mossy green and sparkled. “I’ve already written Mr. Mercer.” Darcy pulled a rumpled envelope from her day dress pocket. “His reply arrived yesterday. He declared we must meet him in New York City on January 16th. Then we shall travel from there to Seattle aboard the S.S. Continental.” Darcy leaped from her chair and danced around the kitchen.

“January 16th! We’ve only a few days to get ready.”

“Mr. Mercer sent train tickets to New York. We leave January 7th.”

Olivia dropped her forehead into her hands. “How much do we owe for the train tickets and the ship passage?”

“Nothing. The men in Seattle coughed up three hundred dollars per man to transport us.”

“Oh.” Olivia rose from her chair and gazed around the kitchen that she’d known for the last twenty-five years. The coziest room in the home where she’d been born. Did she really want to leave? No. She’d buried Mother in the cemetery that abutted the church, and set up a monument over Daddy’s empty grave. He lay somewhere in a Union burial grave at a place called Gettysburg, killed in the same battle that freed her from Howard. No. She’d thought never to leave home again after she returned from the tiny rented room Howard had provided for her as his new wife. The only goods Howard bequeathed her were her new last name…and a head filled with bad memories. And the title widow.

Certainly, no man in Seattle desired to wed a widow, much less pay for one. The purchasers hoped to spend their money on young, beautiful girls…like Darcy.

Olivia closed her eyes. Bitter to leave her home and all she knew.

But sweet to think of a new beginning, a new life, a new adventure, and a new job. If that actually happened.

Yes, God’s peace spread in her heart. This might be the right decision—certainly for Darcy…and perhaps for herself as well. She straightened her shoulders. Under the circumstances this was the only decision available.

Olivia glanced at a beam of sunlight struggling through the gloomy clouds. She gathered up the long skirts of her day dress, motioned to her sister, and started toward the stairway. “Let’s pack.”

She’d leave the home place to fall into decay. But she and Darcy would grab this chance for a new life. And unlike Lot’s wife, she would not look back.

And she and Darcy would not make horrible choices like Lot’s daughters.

She would proudly wear her title widow.

Or was she hiding behind her widowhood, afraid to venture again into the distasteful realm of marriage?

No matter. She would be the schoolmarm. The beloved teacher. The nurturer. The protector.

What could go wrong?

Oh, so many things. 



What about you?
If you were a widow from an abusive marriage, would you be eager to marry again?

The historic Mercer Girls were all mail-order brides who settled in Seattle, Washington. Most ended with happy marriages. Have you ever heard of the Mercer Mail-order Brides?


Giveaway:
Anne is giving away an autographed copy of A Groom for Christmas, and an autographed copy of A
Texas Christmas, and an autographed copy of A Christmas Belle. Answer one of the questions above to be entered in the giveaway!




 















ABOUT ANNE GREENE
My home is in the quaint antiquing town of McKinney, Texas, just a few miles north of Dallas. My dear husband is a retired Colonel, Army Special Forces. My little brown and white Shih Tzu, Lily Valentine, shares my writing space, curled at my feet. I have four beautiful, talented children, and eight grandchildren who keep me running.

I’ve traveled in every location of each book I’ve written, and each book is a book of my heart. Besides my first love, writing, I enjoy travel, art, sports, reading, sailing, snorkeling, movies, and way too many other things to mention. Life is good. Jesus said, “I am come that you might have life and that you might have it more abundantly.” Whether writing contemporary or historical, my books celebrate the abundant life Jesus gives.

I’ve written several other novellas. AVOIDING THE MISTLETOE, is included in the Mistletoe, Jingle Bells, and Second Chances Collection. My novella KEARA’S ESCAPE is included in the Orphan Train/Spinster Collection. DAREDEVILS is included in the North Carolina, 50 States Collection. SPUR OF THE MOMENT BRIDE is included in the Wyoming, 50 States Collection. A CHRISTMAS BELLE, is included in the Christmas Mail Order Angels anthology. THE MARRIAGE BROKER AND THE MORTICIAN is included in The California Gold Rush Romance Collection. My novellas, A FOOL FOR LOVE, A GROOM FOR CHRISTMAS, and A TEXAS CHRISTMAS MYSTERY are stand-alone novellas.

Moody Press published my first book, TRAIL OF TEARS. I love writing about alpha heroes who aren’t afraid to fall on their knees in prayer, and about gutsy heroines. My Women of Courage series spotlights heroic women of World War II. You might want to begin with the first book ANGEL WITH STEEL WINGS. Read my private investigating series, Handcuffed In Texas. The first book is RED IS FOR ROOKIE. Enjoy my award-winning Scottish historical romances, MASQUERADE MARRIAGE and MARRIAGE BY ARRANGEMENT. I hope my stories transport you to awesome new worlds and touch your heart to seek a deeper spiritual relationship with the Lord Jesus. Buy my books on http://www.Amazon.com. Anne Greene.

ANNE’S LINKS

https://www.amazon.com/Anne-Greene/e/B004ECUWMG/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_1

http://www.facebook.com/AnneWGreeneAuthor
http://www.AnneGreeneAuthor.com

Monday, November 6, 2017

The House next door by Susan Page Davis Ends November 13th

Please welcome Susan Page Davis to my blog this week! Susan is giving away a copy of The House Next Door so be sure to read on down to find out how to enter. 

How do I get ideas? They are all around me. Often they come from rabbit trails in research I’m doing for something else. For instance, I recently wrote a blog post for Heroes, Heroines and History about Dorothy Arnold, a young socialite who disappeared in New York City in 1910. (Link to blog: http://www.hhhistory.com/2017/10/wheres-dorothy.html) Dorothy’s case has never been solved, but during the lengthy investigation, several theories were put forth. Among them were these five: 
1. She had run away with a boyfriend. 
2. She had been kidnapped (and/or murdered) the same day she disappeared. 
3. She had deliberately vanished to escape her overbearing family and pursue a career. 
4. She had gone for an illicit abortion and died from complications. 
5. She had committed suicide in a secluded place. 

More than a hundred years later, no one knows what happened to Dorothy. Did she change her identity and live out her life under a different name? Could she have been injured and had amnesia? Was she sold into sexual slavery? Nobody knows. But any one of the above possibilities could provide a plot for a novel. Look around you. Read. Listen. Think. How could a story in today’s news have ended differently? What if someone you know had made a different choice at some point in his life? Do you have a story to tell? The House Next Door The charming stone house next door is for sale! How could there be a down side to that? As his wife Jennifer’s due date approaches, Captain Harvey Larson decides to invest in real estate, unaware of the terror this will cause his family. The neighboring house seems ideal for Jennifer’s brother Jeff and his wife. A hidden cupboard isn’t so bad—in fact, it’s almost fun to try to solve the little mystery inside it. But the unexpected bonus some workmen find is an entirely different matter. Will any of Harvey and Jennifer’s loved ones want to live next door after they learn what’s in the basement? At last Jennifer’s baby arrives, and Harvey takes a little time off as his squad keeps plugging away on the murder case. The men of the Priority Unit might be wasting their time, trying to prove one dead man killed another. Or is the murderer still alive and ready to strike again? 

GIVEAWAY!
Susan is giving away one copy of The House Next Door (or another of her books at the winner’s choice), either paperback or e-book. Leave a comment to be entered in the drawing, and don’t forget to leave your contact information.

Buy The House Next door:
https://www.amazon.com/House-Next-Door-Maine-Justice-ebook/dp/B074P3BBHJ/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1509673098&sr=8-5&keywords=tHE+hOUSE+NEXT+DOOR

About Susan: Susan Page Davis is a Maine native now living in western Kentucky with her husband of 41 years, Jim, who is a retired news editor. They have six children and ten grandchildren. Susan has published more than 70 novels, mostly in the Christian romance, historical romance, mystery and suspense genres. She’s a winner of the Carol Award, the Inspirational Reader’s Choice Award, and the Will Rogers Medallion.

· Contact link information. 
· Find Susan at: 
·Website: www.susanpagedavis.com
· Twitter: @SusanPageDavis
·Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/susanpagedavisauthor
· Sign up for Susan’s occasional newsletter at https://madmimi.com/signups/118177/join