Marcus started it by telling stories of their youth, all of which ended up being about him.

“The life and times of Lucas McGilley,” he said, as if it were a headline.

Lucas fixed a firm gaze on him, willing him to stop. But he didn’t.

“Lucas McGilley, the malefactor of previous criminal escapades today left a tack on Miss Simpson’s chair,” he continued, adopting a deepened voice. “Miss Simpson has declined to press charges.”

“Oh, oh, I got one,” James said, right on Marcus’ heels. “Lucas McGilley has been found responsible for throwing a wad of paper at Preacher Kaskin’s head while he bent in prayer.”

“Lucas McGilley put a snake in the lunch bag of Fran Pierce, causing her to faint,” William chipped in.

“A snake?” Iris asked, her eyes widening.

“Great big black racer,” Will continued. “And she screeched like a cat in a pail of water then fell straight back and conked her head. Had this ginormous lump.”

The table dissolved into laughter, and Lucas’ stomach twisted. Why did they choose tonight to air all this?

“What about the time he released a rat in the Sunday School room?” This question came from Jesse.

“Or the time he lit a pail of moss on fire behind the church,” Charles added. “They thought the building burned and the flames would spread across town.”

James nodded. “Had everyone in an uproar.”

Lucas met Iris’ steady gaze, and his gut clenched further.

“I heard you were the one who wrote that bit about Ari Meckler.” This statement came from Sam, the least likely one to make fun of him, and as a result, the table grew eerily quiet.

“Who’s Ari Meckler?” Iris asked.

Lucas really wished she hadn’t.

“Jewish kid whose family up and moved afterwards,” Jesse explained. “Someone wrote a bunch of horrible threats on their front door.”

“You didn’t do that did you, Lucas?”

Lucas glanced at his mama, who’d asked, guilt picking at him.

“Lucas?” she prompted.

“The truth?”

Their mama laid her hands on the table, and he noticed for the first time how aged they looked. How much of that was his fault?

“I brought you up to tell the truth.”

He swallowed, heavy, his throat thick. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Her eyes saddened, and his guilt over the incident amplified. He’d watched the Mecklers pack their things and ride out of town, wanting the whole time to stop them and confess. But his sixteen-year-old brain wouldn’t let him, or his pride. Nanny Peterson had said one day he’d overstep things, and that time, he had for sure.

“Lucas McGilley, all this time, and that family hurting like they were.”

What was there left for him to say? What he’d done had been hateful and immature.

He scooted his chair back. And now he’d been embarrassed in front of a girl whose opinion, God only knew why, mattered to him. Leave it to his brothers to remind him of who he really was.

✿

How had the boy who pulled pranks become a man who talked about lifetimes?

Sent south for the summer, eighteen-year-old Iris Willow expects the next three months to be the worst. After all, there can't be anything interesting about eight brothers raised on a small-town farm. Not when she's met more sophisticated boys in the city.

Yet from the start, the second eldest, Lucas McGilley, seems different. He's handsome and funny and kind. He's dedicated to his family and willing to do what's necessary to make up for his past mistakes. Most of all, he says he's in love with her.

Love that, as the summer ends, can't overcome her world of doubts. Or his older brother's hatred. Or the horrible secret held by his mother.

Bonus Story: Samuel McGilley, as the youngest of eight brothers, often finds himself overlooked. He’s always made up for that by speaking his mind. But when an afternoon’s task for a local widow introduces him to pretty little Anna McIntosh, he finds something he’s good at. Listening. And maybe, with time’s passing, something far more priceless. Love.

*Other ebook retailers includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hoopla, BorrowBox, Bookshop, Vivlio

----------
Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

“My jacket,” she said.

Unsure why she wanted it, he didn’t speak, but obliged her, fetching it from the floor. She dug around in the pocket for a moment then turned an object toward his face.

His eyes spread wide. “A Ranger? You’re a Texas Ranger?”

She nodded. “That doesn’t scare you off?”

His lips pulled back in a grin. “That’s the ultimate turn on. I love a girl with a gun.”

She flung her badge onto the nightstand. “Can I ask why?”

“Mmm, you can ask.”

She returned her hands to his chest. “Okay, why?”

He stuck one finger in his back pocket and dragged out his wallet, flipping it open.

She snatched it from him. “No way. You’re … you’re …”

His grin widened. “F.B.I., and you, Serena, are under arrest.”

❤

Lewis Dauger met Serena Hernandez in a truck stop outside of Amarillo. His reason for being there? To dump a car he’d stolen from an old girlfriend. But chemistry and timing are everything in his life as an F.B.I. agent. So when he learns she’s a Texas Ranger and the pair of them are in the middle of the biggest prison escape in the state, it seems his unthinking ways have once again given him something unexpected. However, this time, it might not involve his career, but instead, the condition of his heart.

*Other ebook librarys includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hooplan, BorrowBox, Bookshop, Vivlio


----------
Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

Such was the way of life. Babies were born. Old folks died. Supposed to be like that, at least. But his Cadence dying was all wrong ’cause she took the baby with her and left him with nothing. Empty hands and an emptier heart.

Jacob Flynn stood over her grave, his wide-brimmed hat crunched in his hands, his hair glued to his scalp in a ring where it’d been. He struggled for a tear. Something. Anything. A pain to alleviate the dead feeling, the feeling he was alone and no one cared.

The preacher read some Psalm that whisked in one ear and out the other, intoned, “The Lord giveth and the Lord taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord,” and nodded at the boy with the shovel to begin his work.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Each shovelful pounded harder in Jacob’s brain. Each one digging him deeper into this dark, black feeling, a feeling he wished to drown with a bottle except he’d promised her. He’d promised Cadence never again.

She’d cleaned him up. Got him to church. Carried their baby. And died.

The sun beat hot on his head, forming drops of sweat on his brow and running down his neck to soak into his shirt. A shirt Cadence made him.

It all came back to that—to her and him. And it all ended in nothing.

A hand on his shoulder turned his head around. The somber face of the physician gazed back. Jacob nodded, unspeaking. He’d tried to save her. Tried and been too late.

“Where will you go, son?” he asked.

Jacob licked cracked, dry lips. “South.”

South to Florida to lose himself in a swamp somewhere and maybe never come out.

❤

Down is a long way to fall, her mama always said. And a long way to climb up from.

Jacob Flynn lost his wife and son in childbirth and fled south to Florida to escape the memories. But in, Aurelia Cotton, the pregnant wife of a kind man who took him in, they come back to him. She’s so very beautiful. Helplessly in love, he finds himself pressed closer and closer to the ultimate act of betrayal, when tragedy strikes. Yet the evil someone meant for selfish gain, just might be their one chance for forgiveness.

*Other ebook retailers includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hooplan, BorrowBox, Bookshop


----------
Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

“Dude, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Elliot obeyed.

“All you see of yourself right now is the junk, but I see someone who wants to live better than the rotten hand he was dealt, someone striving for a good life.”

“How can you possibly see any of that?” No one else did. No one had ever believed in him from his earliest memories.

“You walked here, didn’t you?” Isaiah asked. “I mean, you could have walked anywhere else, a homeless shelter, stayed beneath an overpass. You could have shacked up with a friend.”

“I don’t have any friends.”

Silence claimed the space after that remark, but more the silence of thought than any embarrassment. Isaiah stuck out his hand. Elliot stared at it.

“Shake my hand,” Isaiah said.

Elliot made no effort to do so. “Why?” he asked.

“I’ll be your friend, and if you want to change, I’ll help you.”

“Why would you bother? You have no obligation to me.”

Isaiah’s gaze became reflective. “This isn’t simply a bed to sleep in, Elliot. This is a lifestyle change. Ask yourself what you really want out of life.”

“What I want? I’ll tell you what I want. I want to get up in the morning and not look over my shoulder wondering how wasted my dad is and if he’s violent today. I want money in my pocket and food in my stomach and an end to the pain. I want …”

“To be one of us.” Isaiah finished his thought. “So shake my hand and commit to being one of us. We’ll stick with you no matter what else happens.”

Elliot stared at him. People didn’t do this for others. They were all about how much they could bleed out of you by the end of the day, especially for a boy like him. He’d seen it too many times.

“Take the offer,” Isaiah said. “Insta-families only come once in a lifetime, and this is yours.”

Still Elliot hesitated. “What if the others don’t agree, like your parents?”

“I’ve talked to my parents. They know you’re here. And Denny feels the same as me. As to Indy …” He shrugged. “That’s something you’ll have to ask her yourself.”

Elliot grew quiet and stared unblinking at Isaiah’s hand. What if he took the offer? He hadn’t thought out what he’d do once he got here, only that they’d take him in and he’d have a roof over his head for a while. But what if … what if he stayed? Here was better than some unknown location, broke and starving. If they’d really stick by him, maybe his past could be just that … in the past.

“Don’t be a fool,” Isaiah said. “Shake my hand, and from here on out, you’re as much my brother as Denny.”

Elliot stared at Isaiah’s offered fingers, knowing he’d be an idiot to refuse. At least, if he accepted, he’d have a place to live for a while. He raised his hand and clasped hold of Isaiah’s. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

Isaiah’s reply struck him hard. “I don’t, but I know Someone Who does.” And with that, he pointed up.

❤

An abusive past. A new beginning.

Elliot Jersey turned up on the Russells' doorstep, sick with the flu and filled with a lot of secrets. A knife fight with his dad forced him to run from home and filled him with a lot of self-doubt.

But soon, staying with them feels like a mistake. He has no right to fall in love with their daughter. A girl as great as her has no business with a boy like him.

*Other ebook retailers includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hooplan, BorrowBox, Bookshop


----------
Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

The quiet of his absence turned their gazes. Carver stuffed his hands in his pockets and swayed back on his heels, a boyish posture. “I should first say that I’m sorry about missing the funeral. I have an excuse, but I hate to give it in light of my dad’s encounter with the mailbox.”

Struck off-kilter by his frankness, she opened her mouth and closed it again. At least, he’d waited until Nicole wasn’t around. At the same time, she shouldn’t be so thrown off by it. He was trying to apologize, sounded like.

“I’m sorry for mentioning it,” he said, confirming her thoughts. “I had a collision out front of the school and injured my left leg. It wasn’t serious, but I couldn’t walk for a while.”

Diane swallowed an unwanted ball of grief. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for that.”

“Yeah, well …” His shoulders sank, but his gaze deepened. “I’m sure you know who wins when you wrestle with guilt.”

Diane didn’t respond right away. He shouldn’t feel guilty. She wouldn’t have known who he was if he’d shown up. Yet …

She looked up at the eaves of the house, unable to hold his gaze so long. If they were close friends, then he should have been there. “Is that what this is? You’re wrestling with guilt?” she asked.

He laughed, a nervous sound. He turned his face upward toward the night sky. His dark hair dusted his shirt collar. “This is me preventing guilt because the Reverend Whiting is a stubborn old cuss.”

Reverend? His dad was a preacher? She didn’t ask it out loud. Probably, she was supposed to know, although she couldn’t think how. A moment later, his dad returned. His arms strung with tangled lights, he came to a halt at the edge of the narrow front porch.

“I found ’em, but …” The word trailed off.

“But you need my help,” she said.

“You didn’t walk down here to untangle Christmas lights,” Carver spoke in her ear.

Prickles traveled up and down her spine, and her tongue thickened. What was wrong with her? Why did he rattle her? He knew Lester. The familiarity bothered her; that was all. Add in, they were of similar height and age and how … cold … her life had become.

“I choose to help,” she replied.

His mom approached the doorway, blocking the golden light streaming from inside. She leveled a tray of steaming mugs in her hands. Nicole popped up beside her and opened the door. His mom stepped out and lowered the tray to a small table in the center of the porch. A Christmas cactus showered fuchsia blossoms around it.

His mom spotted the knotted light strands in her husband’s hands. “Oh, my. I did want those on the fence, but maybe if it’s too much trouble, then we should forget it.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Diane said, drawing her gaze. “I am an excellent light-untangler, and Nicole has inherited my gift. We will have them straightened in no time.”

“I am really good at it,” Nicole replied. “On the other hand, I am not into acting.”

Carver rounded Diane’s side and halted in front of her daughter. “I’ll bet you are as good as your dad.”

Nicole’s bravado extinguished. Her fingers curled, she rubbed them down her sides, not fifteen but twelve, and staring out the car window at the crowd gathered for the funeral.

“You knew my dad?” Nicole asked, after a time.

“Your dad was one my best friends,” Carver replied. “He’s the reason I started acting.”

“He … he is?”

Carver nodded. “He dared me, and no way was I going to fail and look stupid in front of Lester Mobley. If he could do it, then I could do it better.”

“My dad acted?” Nicole stood taller.

“Your dad was the best. It seems almost planned, your being here and me having room for students. That never happens, halfway through the year. I hope you’ll give it a try.”

Nicole puckered her lips and twisted them to the side. The minute’s wait became an eternity. She released her breath, her spine bending. “I’ll do it for Dad.”

Tears burned behind Diane’s eyelids. She shut them and willed the sensation away. The sound of soft footsteps brought her eyes open. Nicole took a seat, the tangled lights across her lap. Mrs. Whiting slid her a cup of cocoa and took the seat beside her. Carver’s dad reached for his own cup.

Carver reached for two and extended one to her. Lester’s eyes had been the palest blue. Looking into them, she’d always felt like she’d seen everything about him. He was transparent and open like that. Carver’s brown pupils, on the other hand, held things you’d have to probe to find. Had anyone ever tried?

“Thanks for that,” she said. “She’s been fighting me for two days. I’m worn out.”

“She’s fighting with herself over how to be happy without her dad.”

When she didn’t comment, he came closer, and the scent of his cologne swirled around her again. She dragged in a lingering breath.

“I am blessed to have her in my class,” Carver said. “Lester was an amazing guy.” He paused. “I’m thinking an incredibly lucky one, too.”

Diane’s breath lodged her throat. Because of Nicole? Because of Nicole. That’s what he’d meant.

❤

To ease the burden of her husband’s passing, Diane Mobley moved in with her in-laws. It’s good for everyone involved. She can take over their gourmet food shop, and they will give her daughter, Nicole, the love she needs to grow and flourish.

When Nicole’s new drama teacher, Carver Whiting, turns out to be her husband’s high school best friend, their instant attraction is fraught with doubt and guilt. Her husband casts a huge shadow between them. Adding pressure is a secret from her past, which might just be more than their fragile relationship can stand.

It could be that forgiveness, peace, and joy, the meanings of Christmas, aren’t meant for her. It could be that finding love the second time around is simply out of reach. A SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS, 2nd Generation Book.

*Other ebook retailers includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hooplan, BorrowBox, Bookshop


----------
Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

I faced Heather, my finger jabbing her in the chest, and narrowed my gaze. If I could have shot steam from my ears, I would have added that for effect.

“You’re mad,” she said.

“Wow. She’s smart.” I practically hissed the words. “Disappear. Freak me out. Then show up acting like life’s great and no, I’m not going to be mad. Where have you been?”

She sighed and dropped her purse in the floor. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Heather glanced from me to Beverly and back, her expression saying, Does she have to hear this?

“Talk.” No way was I letting her out of spilling the beans, and Beverly was going to listen in. She’d stayed with me all night to keep me from falling apart.

“I had a situation come up.”

I glared at her and curled my fingers into fists. That was lame, and she knew it.

“All right, already. I’ll tell you.” Pulling out the desk stool, she seated herself and crossed her ankles. “I’ve been seeing this guy. Levi Roth.”

“I know him,” Beverly said. “Cute Jewish kid.”

“Not a ‘kid’,” Heather said. “He’s twenty-two, but yes, he’s Jewish.”

“And?” I snapped my fingers.

“And I’ve decided to convert.”

I had one of those moments, one of those speechless, nothing-but-crickets moments. I was seriously floored. I mean, here I’d thought she was sleeping around, and the whole time she was simply thinking about her faith?

“Don’t look so shocked,” she said. “I know how I’ve always been, but Levi, he’s … perfect.”

She gave me this lovesick look then, and I wasn’t sure whether to cheer or barf.

“I’m happy for you,” I said at last. “But that doesn’t explain why you disappeared without telling anyone. I am your best friend, and we have been friends since middle school. Didn’t you think I’d worry? And your mom didn’t know where you were. And you didn’t answer your phone. Where did you go anyhow?”

“One answer at a time,” she said. “First, mom didn’t know because I haven’t told her. She’ll be against it. Second, I should have told you, but I didn’t have time. He said we had to go right then or we wouldn’t make it there.”

“Make it where?”

Her face had flushed. She was excited about whatever it was she’d done.

“Classes. I attended classes to help me decide if this is what I want to do. He barely got me in. The class was full, but then they had someone drop out.”

So that made some sense, but raised another question. “Couldn’t you take it later? He’s not pressuring you is he?”

I guess I was thinking about Ichabod in asking her that. After all, he’d said the same thing to me, and so it seemed important.

“Not pressuring.” She glanced down at her feet. “But … see … he … he asked me to marry him.”

Revelation number two made me jump in place. Marriage? Here I was thinking she was loose as a goose, and she wasn’t at all. It was like those murder stories in a funny way. At least in the sense of me thinking I knew her and I didn’t all along.

“Be happy for me,” Heather said.

“I am.” I let the words sit between us. “I’m also wondering why you gave me such a hard time about Ichabod.”

“Ichabod, or whoever he actually is, is different because you don’t know who he is. I know Levi. I’ve met his family. I stayed at their house. I attended their synagogue.” She paused, seemingly to think. “Okay, say I give you the benefit of the doubt, and Ichabod’s the best guy ever. What if he’s not a Christian, then what are you going to do?”

Great. Pile on the guilt. I was starting to wish Heather would go back to her boyfriend’s family.

“See? You haven’t given that any thought, and I can see it. You’re hung up on him. You’ve been thinking about him all week, imagining how it’ll be, but then you’ll get there and he’ll have a weird habit or something.”

I shot to my feet. “For your information, he called me yesterday and asked if I wanted to call it off. I said no. I have no interest in calling it off.”

“Gees, Georgia, relax,” she snapped.

“You relax. The least you could have done was answer your stinkin’ phone.”

“My phone died, and I didn’t have a charger. It seemed stupid to buy one for one day’s use. I thought about asking to use their house phone, but how to say, ‘I need to call my roommate so she won’t worry,’ and them think I’m not irresponsible for not telling you sooner. I was trying to make a good impression.”

I looked away from her and up the wall where she’d hung several band posters. I could see her side of it, but I could also see mine. And feel the pain she’d caused and the mounting frustration over my date.
v “How ‘bout you let up and walk me to the gates?” I asked. She and I had, after all, made a deal about that. “But you have to promise not to tell me if you know him.”

“Not a word,” she said. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for making you worry.”

I nodded. I was still angry with her, but too tired to argue further. “Fine. No making faces either,” I added.

She smiled. “Not a one.”

Somehow I didn’t believe her.

♥

Georgia Davis didn’t know the boy standing there, or why moments later when he asked to kiss her she said yes. Kiss a complete stranger? Who does that? Yet the most amazing kiss she’s ever had then becomes a first date with an agreement to forget their real names. Really it makes no sense. Except somewhere deep inside, for one evening, it just has to be this way. He’s Ichabod, and she’s Penelope.

*Other ebook retailers includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hooplan, BorrowBox, Bookshop


----------
Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

“I think you broke my nose.” Roman held the ice-filled cloth to the bridge of his injured appendage and eyed the space between him and Coralee. If she made one more step his direction, he was out of there.

“I’m sorry, but you called me that … that … name.” She stood before him, one hand curled upward on the counter.

“It was just a jo … ow …” He winced and pulled away from her grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

She approached him anyway. “I want to see if it’s swollen.”

“Of course it’s swollen, you broke it. Gah, you broke my freakin’ nose. I can’t believe it.”

“Stop whining,” she said, throwing her weight on one hip. “You’re such a baby when you whine.”

“I’m allowed to whine when you break my nose.”

This comment made her giggle, and the sound of it brought out his own laughter. Yet laughing too hard hurt, and it wasn’t long before he was back to whining.

“Where’ve you been anyway?” he asked. “A boxing match?”

She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. “Psh. You haven’t heard? I’m trying to see how long a person can sit in one place.”

“Doing what? Arm exercises?”

She sighed. “No. How come I didn’t know your grandpa owned this place?”

“You never asked.”

“Cute. I had no reason to ask. It’s not like we were friends.”

“Or are friends,” he added. He lowered the ice from his nose at last and sat it on the counter.

She gave a hiss. “Oh, wow, I really broke it. It’s kinda … crooked.”

“Great. Ow.” Talking hurt. Breathing hurt. Looking at her hurt. Man, she was fine, and strong as an ox, and outspoken, and not about to give him the time of day. And now his nose was warped and she’d be working here. Here, where he’d have to look at her each day and wish he could put his lips on hers.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

He looked away. “I’m not looking at you like anything except a girl with a mean right cross.”

“Well, I apologize, like I said. You promise not to call me that, and I’ll not do it again.”

“Believe me,” he said. “I’m not calling you anything.” He turned his back on her and wandered back through the folding doors. Unfortunately, she followed. “What?” he asked, a few steps in.

“Your grandpa said for you to show me what to do.”

“Now?”

She rested one hand on her hip. “Why not now? I need money, and I’m ready to work.”

Money? What did she need money for? Then again, what did he know about her? They’d attended school together, graduating last spring and going their separate ways. He’d taken a handful of classes at the local community college, and she’d, according to her, done nothing.

They hadn’t particularly been friends, more like kids in the same classes on occasion. It wasn’t until their senior year that he’d noticed her as an appealing female. But as far as she was concerned, he’d been invisible, so rather than have his hopes dashed, he’d given up and watched her walk away.

“What do you want money for?” he asked. If she was unemployed as she’d indicated, then she obviously hadn’t cared about being broke ’til now.

“That’s personal,” she said. “Let’s just say I need it fairly quick, and it’s really important so here I am.”

He stared at her for a minute then shrugged. “Fine. Take that box over there to aisle three and hang up what’s in it up.”

“Sure thing, boss,” she said. Prancing across the space, she bent over, thrusting her butt outward and took hold of the box.

He swallowed. This would be a long, long summer with sightings like that every day. Then again, looking at that might make things interesting – so long as she kept her hands to herself.

She straightened, and he glanced away. Paperwork. He’d do much better right now to concentrate on ordering inventory than staring at what was a very attractive backside.

♥

The best way Coralee Pirtle can think of to be noticed by Roger Keen, is to show up at the big pool party in the right suit. Problem is, she doesn’t own one and hasn’t a dime to her name. Easily solved ... she’ll get a job. Working alongside Roman Avery at the local hardware store isn’t exactly what she had in mind, but how hard can it be? Two weeks, one paycheck, and she’s set. However, plans change, and the more time goes by, the less appealing Roger seems, and the more Roman Avery becomes the man of her dreams.

For ages 12 and up. Clean romance parents can trust.

*Other ebook retailers usually includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hooplan, BorrowBox, Bookshop

The power flowed between them, as it always did when he sat on her right. Angus made no mention of it, nor any attempt to free his palm from hers. Not like he could in the middle of the church service.

He stared ahead, conscious of the pastor walking back and forth across the platform, but not the words he spoke because he was preoccupied instead by the lack of demon creatures inside the building. They’d stalled at the door, hanging back like so many pieces of paper swept by the wind. That people tolerated them, going into the service, and coming back out to pick them up again, was baffling.

Why not rid yourself once and for all?

After his stroll through the mall revealed so many, hundreds even, he’d gone home and used his phone to do some research in the Scriptures. Jesus had also dealt with demons on many occasions, and He hadn’t tolerated them, but cast them out, showing compassion on the people who were afflicted.

There was great power in compassion. Where some thought of it as weakness, it was, in fact, the highest measure of God’s Love that existed. It was Love poured out on another for no reason at all. As Christ had done for mankind.

Sara’s free hand squeezed his arm, and she gestured toward the aisle where the pastor motioned. Angus rose, his hand suddenly loosened from hers and crossed over the knees of her parents toward a clear space.

“Will you be baptized?” the pastor asked.

“Yes.”

The pastor gestured toward the front and Angus followed behind several others out a doorway and up a set of stairs to a room lined with small closets. Donning a robe handed to him from the first one, he exited the room and stepped up three small stairs to the edge of a tank of water.

A man he didn’t recognize waved him in.

Angus waded through the cool liquid to the man’s side, turning his profile to the people below, and in that instant the space changed.

Gone were the walls, the audience, the voice of the man. Instead he stood in a river, golden in color, which twisted and turned through a field. Before him stood the Man, the Savior. He pressed one hand to Angus’s forehead, causing him to sink below the waves. They rippled in his ears, flooding his face, and seemed to soak into his very core. He was overwhelmed by them, unable to escape, unable to rise.

Words bubbled up in his hearing, spoken, as it were, directly to his heart. Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.

Angus inhaled, awakening to air and the church and the applause of the people. Water streaming down his face, a new language emerged, not the ancient one Sara spoke, not English, the language of his birth, but one unintelligible in his ears and yet perfectly tuned to the Father.

His hands raised of their own accord and a Glory from everywhere, and yet nowhere at all, raced down his fingers, through his limbs and into his feet. He heard an audible gasp from those in the room and the sound of their praises escalating, then turned his gaze toward the ceiling where hovering above them all was a crowd of heavenly beings, angelic in appearance, whose worship came in perfect harmony from all sides at once.

He dipped his eyes then toward Sara, emotion caught his throat.

✞

Wings, Book 1
An allegorical look at the gospels and the book of Acts
99 cents
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Called from birth to carry the Light of God into a world filled with Darkness, seventeen-year-old Sara Benedict finds the mission this time has changed. This city, this school, is more about her growth. No longer will she function alone, but she needs Angus Finlay to fulfill the prophecies. Yet there’s something deeper going on behind the scenes, and the harder she tries, the greater the danger seems. Her work of rescue must continue, but this task just might shut off the Light inside her once and for all.


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Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

Love & Redemption (GRÁ & SLÁNÚ) The Florida Irish, Book 1

FREE EBOOK
Links below

✿

Her gaze was especially clear, as if it held the sky. “I had another dream,” she said. She yawned, one hand rising to cup her lips.

“Of me and you?”

Her cheeks blushed. “You’re teasing me.”

He chuckled. “Aye, lass.”

Laughter burst from her lips. “Say something like that.”

He paused, searching his memory. “May yer alwus ’av walls for de winds, a roof for de rain, tay beside de fire, laughter ter chare yer, dohs yer love near yer, an’ al’ yisser ’eart might desire.”

Her eyes grew wide. “That was beautiful, though I don’t know what you said.”

“It’s an Irish blessing,” Michael replied. He clasped his hands together behind her back, and she leaned against his chest, for one moment, this morning, a natural one.

“It was beautiful. I could listen to you talk like that for hours.”

He could hold her like this for hours. He clamped his lips shut; he couldn’t say that. It would be best if they maintained some distance. On the heels of his thought, he inhaled. Then what was this?

A foot landed squarely in the center of his back, the pain of the contact spiking outward, and he and Anne sprang apart.

“Don’t you two look cozy,” Ferguson crowed, “but git up. We leave in an hour.” He turned away, his footsteps fading on the leaf-strewn soil.

Anne groaned. Michael switched his gaze to her face. “What is it?” he asked.

She offered a half-hearted smile. “I ache everywhere. By nightfall, I’ll be dead.”

At her words, his heart snagged, and he snatched her hand, folding it in his. “Don’t say that.” Desperation choked him.

Nothing could take her away. He … he needed her.

✿

Amazon (ebook, paperback, audiobook)
Other ebook retailers*


*Other ebook retailers includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hooplan, BorrowBox, Bookshop


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Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

It was all unfair. Life was so unfair, and this not how things should be. But there she lay alone, little Bethany Ryder, forever a child, entombed in the earth like so much forgotten pocket change. Like a quarter folded in white paper and tucked into her dad’s wallet for remembrance.

Don’t remember. Live. What good are thoughts, dreams, and visions without the tangible around you? It was a heart palpable that mattered, a visible, corporeal being which ran and skipped and hopped. A little girl with blonde curls and her daddy’s eyes filled with laughter, swinging through the air.

A figure at her side also knelt in the grass. Mama Winters wrapped her arms around Rylie’s slumped body and pulled her in. Rylie wept there, her cheek dampening on the old woman’s chest, and breathed in a floral bouquet emanating from her skin.

“There, there, child. It’s time you let that out. That sweet baby gone on to be with Jesus.”

Rylie hauled herself back, dashing at moist patches beneath her eyes. “With Jesus?” she spat. “She’s here. Dead in the ground.”

“No, Rylie, she’s not. She’s dancin’ in the fields of heaven, surrounded by God’s light.”

Rylie backpedaled, pulling away. “She isn’t, and I’m tired of everyone tellin’ me she is. Like she’s okay up there without her mama. I’m her mama. Me.” Her voice was strident at the end.

Mama Winter’s eyes became soft, her pupils flecking gold. “Ain’t nobody takin’ that away from you,” she said. “She’s your daughter just the same, but God didn’t want her to fade away. She’s not a memory to Him, but the perfect creation of two people who loved one another, though maybe they didn’t do things right.”

✿

“I’ve always loved you, Colton Ryder, but I’m not sure that’s enough. I hate this town. I hate these memories. And just because you kiss me and my mind blanks doesn’t mean I can overcome them, doesn’t mean I can simply pick up my life as it is and return to Richland. All I have here is turmoil, and all I want to do is forget.”

Rylie Shepherd’s come home to Richland, a town she never thought to see again. To a flood of bad memories and broken dreams. A family splintered and reassembled by death. To pain and heartache and years of poverty and loss.

To Colton Ryder, town war hero, old boyfriend, resurrected man. But in dying, he’s changed, from the inside, he says, and this power he’s found is strong enough to heal all that’s between them and recreate the love they had.

Yet maybe it can’t. Maybe his presence will only further wounds that never healed in the first place, and maybe afterward all she’ll have is a hole in her heart the shape of a baby that died in her arms.

From best-selling author, SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS, a touching story of hearts mended through the power of God’s love.

Other ebook retailers includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hooplan, BorrowBox, Bookshop


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Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

Us. There it was again, that he was still stuck here.

Steve did his best to straighten, smoothing his rumpled shirt, and bobbled in the motion. “I told her she’d not done right by you, begged her to call, and speak with you herself. I’m sorry, Louis, but she refused.”

Stung, Louis’s grip on the forms tightened, and they crinkled in his palm.

“So I told her to let you go. I would adopt you. That’s the paperwork. It’s all but done … just needs the judge’s signature.”

Louis reeled, distancing himself. His mom, who he’d laid his hopes on, had given him up? To Steve? She didn’t want him?

“Louis … I thought … thought we could start over,” Steve continued. He tried to walk forward, but twisted his ankle and fell against the wall.

Louis continued to reverse.

“You don’t have to call me ‘dad’. I know you’re too big for that. But maybe we can form a truce?”

Louis walked backwards, out of the living room and into the foyer.

“Louis?”

Out of his stepdad’s sight, he whirled, yanked the front door open and, leaving it ajar, fled. He drove recklessly, not paying any attention to his route, and the fog swallowed him, further muddying his view. He flew around a curve, his tires catching the edge of the verge, and raced down an unknown street, intent only on outrunning his pain.

A stop sign leaped out at him, too quick. He overcorrected to avoid it and spotted a person directly in his path. He spun the wheel again, the car twisting counterclockwise, and came to a stop in the middle of the street.

His heart pounding, his chest tight, he gripped the wheel, then it occurred to him to look for the person he’d seen. He rolled down his window, craning his head out, and spotted a girl.

“Dorothy?”

“Louis?”

What was she doing here? “One moment. Just let me …” Edging the car onto the side of the road, he parked and exited, his door remaining open.

She crossed the lanes, her arms curved over her chest.

“You’re cold,” he said. “I think …” Reaching into the back of his car, he dug through his things and shook out his Piermont Senior Jacket. He draped it over her shoulders. It was huge on her, but she seemed grateful. She tugged the edges closed.

“What are you …?” They both spoke at once, ending the question with a couple jittery laughs.

“Just out driving,” he said. “I should have … slowed.” His excuse sounded lame, but she seemed to accept it.

“I heard a car coming, but couldn’t see it for all the fog.”

Then again, her excuse was questionable. He gazed at her, unspeaking. Her eyes rimmed red, her face flushed. Had she been running from someone? It wasn’t his place to ask, but he couldn’t leave her here. “Can I give you a lift?”

She bit her lip. “I’d like to go home, but I’m not sure …”

He understood her discomfort. “You want me to call someone then?”

“Would you?”

He nodded. “Here …” Reaching into his pocket, he dug out his cell and extended it to her. Their fingers brushed, and they paused.

Louis released the device. “I’ll stay until whoever arrives,” he said.

She glanced down at the phone, dialed a number, and raised it to her ear. “Ria?” Dorothy’s voice cracked. She made a slight cough. “I need you to come get me. I’m …” She paused. “… a half mile or so north of the bridge.”

The bridge? Louis trailed his gaze over her again. Red marks shone on her wrist, her hair was mussed, and she had a tiny cut on her lip. Who had done that to her? The anger he’d felt for Steve transferred to her unknown assailant.

Headlights cut through the fog. A voice called out. “Dot?”

Dorothy shrunk back. “I’ll wait,” she mumbled into the phone. She reversed, almost hiding behind him.

“Dot? I’m sorry …” The car slowed.

Louis looked down at her. “You want me to get rid of him?”

She bobbed her head.

Holding the driver’s side door, he waved her into the seat, shutting it behind her. “Stay there,” he said. With determined steps, he crossed the road until even with driver. He recognized the guy behind the wheel instantly. The Eagles’ quarterback, Drew Sault.

“You …” Drew said, his gaze narrow.

Louis contemplated his response. His fists curled, his brain screamed to pound the guy. He’d evidently frightened her and, in his mind, deserved whatever he got. It’d be easy, not really a fair fight. He was taller and wider than Drew, weighed more than him by about thirty pounds. One swing. Even if he hit him just once, it’d be worth it.

Yet his arm hauled back, his muscles tensed, what came out sounded a lot like Steve. “She’s chosen to walk away,” he said, his voice deep. “You need to go home.”

✿

Spunky Southside Eagle cheerleader, Dorothy Payne, never expected to meet the guy of her dreams on the football field. Especially since he goes to the rival school, Piermont High. But a mid-game collision with Raider’s defense player, Louis Buntz, soon leads to mutual interest and a date.

What seems simple and full of promise, however, has unseen complications: her mom’s bad health, Louis’s rocky home life, and, biggest of all, the sudden jealousy of her longtime friend, Eagles’ quarterback, Drew Sault. The rash decision to go out with both further muddles things. Her heart pulls her one way, but her conscience pulls the other.

She shouldn’t be with a Raider when it looks like the guy she’s known the longest is falling apart.

*Other ebook retailers includes: Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, Tolino, Vivlio, Smashwords, Gardners, Fable, Everand, Overdrive, Odilio, cloudLibrary, Hooplan, BorrowBox, Bookshop


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Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com