Ponytails and Promises is live on Amazon as an e-book. Print to follow in 2020.
With deadlines looming, another threat emerges, one she doesn’t know if she’ll overcome: the man she hired might be the man who steals her heart.
Purchase link for Amazon.com
Purchase link for Amazon.ca
From the bottom of my heart to everyone who pre-ordered my novel.
This book was a while in coming. I had hit a patch of self-doubt, however, Soul Mate Publishing, LLC kept the faith, and today my novel, which started with a suggestion from friends to set a romance on a farm, is available to share a story about Emily and her mother, Alese, who are the owners/operators of a grain farm. They have the care of an elderly uncle who is in the beginning stages of dementia. Uncle Harold cannot stay home alone, and they do not want to send him to a care home while they seed their crops. Along comes Max, a long-haired, bearded man who looks like the boy next door; however, Emily wants to discover the man he turned out to be.
I’m looking forward to readers’ comments about my latest novel.
Thank you for sharing my excitement with me today.
Alone or lonely
One day last week I was relearning the almost indoor walkway from the condo where I live to the mall. I had discovered it years ago, however, I hadn’t used it in a long time.
This day was my adventure day. I can’t remember exactly why I chose this time. I recall going into the enclosed sidewalk mall and seeing the stairs that led to a floor I was certain would be part of my journey. Of course, being directionally challenged, I had to ask someone. They directed me to through the heavy double safety doors, to the arrows that pointed the way across a covered parking garage. When I entered another heated walkway, I heard a low, quiet voice singing. I spotted the person leaning against the window, gazing west and singing mournfully. My heart ached at the sound. The language was not one I understood. I passed by without invading his thoughts or space.
Being a story-teller, I believed he was looking westward toward the land of his birth and possibly a family or a special someone he had left behind. Perhaps even a war-torn country. We are a city of newcomers. They must miss their home country. It felt as if this man ached for someone he didn’t have with him.
Or he could have been waiting for the bus. Perhaps this day, I was projecting my feelings onto him and made assumptions that had nothing to do with him at all. That too is part of storytelling. I’m choosing to believe the first, it is a better story.
Celebrate today, and tomorrow and all of the tomorrows until December 31, 2017
This is a year to take risks, make mistakes and continue on.
Keep checking in.