Good Morning and Happy Thanksgiving!
Before we get to our All Christmas thru Christmas guest I'd like to take a moment and THANK Each and Every One of YOU who follow my blog and support my guests and to wish you ALL a BLESSED and Happy Thanksgiving!
Now on to our guest....
Alina K Field is no stranger to our blog and today she shares with us her story from the Christmas collection published by the Bluestocking Belles. Take it away, Alina....
I’m excited to share with you this newest collection of stories from the Bluestocking Belles, including my brand new novelette, Flowers for His Lady. If you’ve read A Leap Into Love, you’ll recognize the heroine as one of the secondary characters from that story.
Belles & Beaux
Just in time for Christmas 2022 comes this boxed set of eight charming stories of love, family, and miracles. Each Belle has contributed a sweet tale set in the festive season–each just long enough to fit in between tasks at this busy time of the year. The tales are unrelated, except by the festive season.
Some have been written for this collection, some are made-to-order stories never before published, some have been used as fan giveaways. All are delightful.
So pour the drink of your choice, find a favorite chair, and step into one of our worlds.
A Mistletoe Kiss: Sherry Ewing
As Christmas approaches, Sophie Templeton’s one wish is a kiss beneath the mistletoe from the man who holds her heart. Spencer, Earl of Wilmott has been quietly waiting for Sophie to grow up. Has he left it too late to make his offer?
The Magic Christmas Stew: Susana Ellis
The life of an idle spare was no life at all for retired Captain, Daniel Winthrop. He was capable of doing many things, but they all required a wealthy bride. Governess Emily Bainbridge feared being pursued for her fortune, so she kept hers a secret. Will this pair find the courage to conquer their pride and risk all for love?
Flowers for His Lady: Alina K Field
After her fall from grace years ago, Eleanor Gurnwood has made a family of the villagers in her vicar-brother’s parish. His rising career means she must choose between continuing as his minion or staying with the village. Then her past rides in on a white horse in the form of Major Sir Bramwell Huxley.
An Angel’s Promise: Rue Allyn
Artis MacKai might be only a little girl, but she is not going to let a blizzard, wolves, or a deadly enemy stop her from rescuing the stolen mare and foal who are the hope of her family. It will take the spirits of her parents, a determined boy, and her desperate brother to save her.
Room at the Inn: Caroline Warfield
A fatherless child requires a village with room in their hearts. A hardhearted baroness makes it impossible. The Honorable Declan Alworth steps up to make room in his heart and his home for the little treasure. How can the vicar’s niece, Maera Willis, resist either one of them?
Zara’s Locket: Jude Knight
After Zara MacLaren is dismissed from her post on Christmas Eve, things go from bad to worse. When a goldsmith recognises the locket he once made in the hands of a would-be seller, he sets out to find her. What seems bad fortune might just turn into a Christmas miracle.
Three Ships: Elizabeth Ellen Carter
Laura Winter lives on a tidal island that is home to a lighthouse. On a late November day a violent storm brings not only the handsome Lieutenant Michael Renten but also a clutch of pirates bent on wreaking mischief.
The Beau of Christmas Past: Cerise DeLand
Years ago, Alyssa and Declan were caught enjoying a Christmas kiss, which broke Alyssa’s betrothal to another man, and caused the pair to be exiled, far from their families and one another. Home for Christmas, will they find the past something to be overcome? Or fulfilled?
Excerpt from Flowers for His Lady
The helpers had departed St. Tancred’s hours ago when the wet snow falling showed a determination to stick, as the last few December snowfalls had not done. Besides, some of the members of the Ladies’ Society for the Improvement of Village Life had meals to prepare. Those with servants had children to tend to and husbands who would worry about their safe arrival.
Even the new curate, Mr. Godwin, had left, polite and pleased, after a cursory visit in the late afternoon. He and his wife—a lovely woman due to give birth soon—would serve the people of Upper Upton far better than…
With a steadying breath, Miss Eleanor Gurnwood shook off what would be an uncharitable thought.
She had stayed on in the peaceful solitude to finish arranging great urns of winter greens and holly, despairing of their broken organ, and the promised flowers from the Brockton Manor greenhouse.
Never mind. This would be a lovely Christmas at St. Tancred’s, or at least better than last year’s celebration when her brother’s cheeseparing meddling had decimated the ranks of her helpful ladies.
He’d left weeks ago, and the ladies had come back.
No one waited at home for her but Millie, her landlord, Galt Wyman’s housekeeper. Millie would be ready with her usual meat pie and cabbage mash keeping warm near the hearth. And despite that it was the sabbath, old Galt would be at the Royal George, himself pie-eyed, and cabbage-mashed after too many pints.
The stained glass of the windows, depicting the medieval martyrdom of St. Tancred and his siblings obscured the view, but outside, the winter night glowed with the sort of soft light that comes with a snowfall. She hoped the weather wouldn’t spoil the plans for tomorrow night’s Christmas Eve Carol service, or the Christmas morning liturgy, or the children’s party Christmas afternoon at the Longview Children’s Home.
She bent close to the lantern and reached for her watch, remembered she’d sold it to get through the quarter, and sighed. Next year her small trust would be her own to manage and draw from.
The remaining lit candle told her it was likely past seven. Well then, she’d best go rescue Galt before he stumbled his way to the church to fetch her. But first…
Three layers of skirts cushioned her knees against the cold marble as she bent her head and gripped her gloved hands together. Lord, give me wisdom, guide my path; for pity’s sake, send an angel, send someone, to show me the way.
Tears sprang and she blinked them back. And cleanse me of this nauseating self-pity.
It was, after all, her own fault. She’d loved impetuously, with the natural consequence of losing emphatically.
And she wouldn’t trade that one experience of love—of loving—for all the rubies in India. Pity herself, she might, and battle the hurt that had followed, but it seemed St. Paul was right—for the love had never quite gone away.
Besides, she wasn’t entirely alone. There were good people here in the village of Upper Upton. Her landlord, for one, and his housekeeper. And the innkeeper and his wife. And the matrons and teachers and the young residents of the nearby Longview Children’s Home.
She had friends, though those ties were still tenuous. She had hopes of a position at Longview. She also had her brother, who loved her in his own overbearing way.
If only he could display more charity.
What really was so terrible about what she’d done? It had been reckless, and foolish, and so wonderful that she pulled out the memory sometimes and savored it. She, destined to spinsterhood, had been loved.
In the end, she’d suffered no more than a wound to her heart and endless hours of tiresome lectures. She felt certain that God had forgiven her. So why did his servant, Reverend Matthew Gurnwood, keep reminding her of that one lapse from propriety?
A man’s rumbling voice and the creaking of door hinges accompanied a blast of cold air that blew out the candle’s flame.
Blasted Galt. “Please close the door and spare me a moment,” she called over her shoulder, “and I’ll add a prayer that God in his goodness may spare you the consequences of tonight’s imbibing.”
“I fear more than a prayer is needed for this fellow, madam.”
A frisson of awareness shivered up her spine. The deep, gruff voice caressing her wasn’t Galt’s. Or Matthew’s. Or Mr. Godwin’s. And it was no angel’s voice.
Memories flooded her with yearning—hopeless yearning for something her pride would balk at receiving. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him.
“Courage,” she muttered.
Another blast of cold air swirled around her. She scrambled to her feet, snatched up her heavy mantle and the lantern, and hurried down the aisle.
Award-winning and USA Today bestselling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature but prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. She makes her home in Southern California, and between wrangling a terrier, a chihuahua, and two feisty grandkids, she’s hard at work on her next historical adventure.
Check out Alina's previous visits to our blog
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Sounds like a great collection of wonderful stories, Alina! We certainly wish you ALL the best of luck and God's blessings with it.
Hope you enjoyed today's All Christmas thru Christmas book and that you'll stop by each week for another on Wednesday Words with Friends and Saturday Spotlight.
Until next time take care and God bless.
PamT
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