#cleanromanceforxmas21

Evaline carefully wrapped a black band around her arm. “Remy, could you help me tie it tight enough that it will stay?”

“Certainly, my lady.” Her loyal lady’s maid cinched it and applied a pin at the back for good measure.

“Excellent. Mother deserves longer than the small three hundred and sixty five days of mourning no matter what Father or Aunt say.”

“Yes, my lady.” Remy seemed to have sympathy. It was so difficult to tell what went through the woman’s mind. But Eva chose to interpret her most uttered three words, “yes, my lady,” with whichever emotion Eva desired to hear at the moment, and that is precisely why she and Remy got on so well.

The rest of her clothing flowed around her in anything but mourning colors. Mother forgive her, but she must forge ahead. Her gown of bright canary yellow would glow even in the darker lighting of Almack’s. Her hair was tall and wrapped in a turban adorned with a full array of peacock feathers. Her gloves were a bright purple. Her slippers green. She applied rouge, enough that people would know she’d done it, and though she hoped to take further steps outside of acceptable fashion in the future, her current dress seemed garish enough for her first party out of mourning.

She determined never to ever attract another man again.

Excerpted from A Christmas Kiss by Jen Geigle Johnson, Copyright © 2021 by Jen Geigle Johnson. Published by Kings Row Press.

Other Books in the Series

About the Author

An award winning author, including the GOLD in Foreword INDIES Book of the Year Awards and LDSPMA Praiseworthy’s top award for Romance, Jen Geigle Johnson has more stories circulating in her brain than can possibly be told. She discovered her passion for England while kayaking on the Thames near London as a young teenager. History is her main jam. Her literary heroes include the greats: Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. But she has modern sensibilities as well. Six children and an inspiring husband keep her going and make certain she doesn’t stay glued to a keyboard or lost in obscure fascinating details of old castles. She once greeted an ancient turtle under the water by grabbing her fin. She waterskis like a boss and hits the powder, falling down steep moguls with grace. During a study break date in college, she sat on top of a jeep’s roll bars up in the mountains and fell in love with the man who would become her everything. Now, she loves to share bits of history that might otherwise be forgotten. Whether in Regency England, the French Revolution, or Colonial America, her romance novels are much like life is supposed to be: full of adventure.

1) Miracle Creek is a fictional town based on the factual town of Cashmere, Washington and its nearby Icicle Creek and Icicle Creek Bridge. Check it out!

2) I was in bed for most of the duration of writing Miracle Creek Christmas, through two back surgeries leapfrogged by two shoulder surgeries over a 3-year span. So although I live within two hours of Wenatchee Valley, I couldn’t visit to research it myself for some details. Fortunately, I’ve visited the area multiple times since I was a little girl, and I had a couple of friends who live there that I reached out to. And I used Google Maps a lot. And Miracle Creek was born!

3) The Aplets & Cotlets fruit candy factory is a landmark in Cashmere, and the scene where Riley and Mark consider taking the factory tour was edited out. The factory is now closed due to COVID-era economics. 🙁

4) I began writing Miracle Creek Christmas after the 2015 wildfires that raged across Washington State, spreading firefighters so thinly, fighters from neighboring states were called on to help. The Chelan Complex Fire was an actual event, though Mark and Jay’s experience with the boys was fictional.

5) Riley is named after my beautiful niece, Riley Anglesey, who is a freshman this year at BYU.

6) Miracle Creek Christmas was originally titled, “Hold on Forever” after the song by Rob Thomas, who I adore. The song so perfectly expresses the way Riley and Mark come to feel about each other–“Lay down all your troubles end to end, they could reach up to the stars. So many roads, you don’t know where you’ve been, but you still know who you are . . . Just fall apart if you need to. I’m here and I won’t leave you now. Don’t look down. Hold on forever…” Such a great song for these two.

7) I fashioned Cal Rivers after the iconic Mr. Paul Newman. I had so much fun writing the scenes between Mark and his dad! The sass from those boys!

8) The alpine town of Leavenworth is indeed one of my favorite places to visit and the depiction was no exaggeration! I love every painted mural, lederhosen, oom-pah band, bratwurst, and felt cap. And don’t forget the bollen!

9) The character of Gus was fashioned after one of my husband’s best friends. Everyone needs a Gus.

10) Thirty years ago, my husband and I were given an antique Gustav Stickley Craftsman-style rocking chair as a wedding present. And a star was born. I have rocked all my babies in it. Rock on.

BONUS) For several weeks I volunteered to pick up a sweet woman I barely knew from her dialysis appointment because her husband would often travel for work. Her name is Carmen, and she’s become very dear to me. Sometimes authors take a few bits and pieces from people we know or observe to create a new character–like Gus and Cal. But with Carmen, I wrote Carmen. She is her. And I couldn’t even change her name. She is a wonder and an inspiration to me. And fortunately, she was overjoyed and humbled to play a part in this story! A few months before Miracle Creek Christmas was released, Carmen received a successful kidney transplant and no longer has to endure dialysis! She remains a dear angel in my life.

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“Miss Crauford?” The servant, whose blue livery matched the opulent cloth on the coach’s driving box, approached me.

My palms were clammy within my gloves, and I mindlessly rubbed them against my middle. Did I truly have the tenacity to enact such a preposterous scheme? It wasn’t too late to simply comply with Papa’s demands and marry Lord Denhurst’s son. I wavered between two seemingly detestable options. Then an image of India filled my mind’s eye. If I abandoned my plan now, I would likely never see my home again. Once Papa was in England, he would see me married, just as he said he would. That would not do. No, I needed to convince Lord Denhurst to revoke his offer, thus adhering to Papa’s admonition that I would not make him break his word, and to be on my way home before Papa arrived.

The man stopped when he was still a little way off. “You are Miss Crauford?”

“I will do anything to get home,” I whispered under my breath, rousing my courage. It was now or never, and never was not an acceptable option.

“I should certainly hope so.” I lifted my chin to an arrogant level, acting in complete opposition to Mrs. Purcell’s lessons. “Otherwise I have made a very tedious voyage for nothing.” The man’s dumbfounded expression was proof I had chosen the correct vocal timbre to use—obnoxiously loud and fast with a grating quality that had been perfected in the privacy of my cabin over the last several months. “Have you come to take me to my soon-to-be husband?” I scanned his figure in a blatant appraisal, refusing to consider my own mortification so as not to risk a blush. “Or are you him?”

“Yes, miss,” he said, before realizing his error. “I mean, no.”

“Which is it?” I asked, swiftly closing the distance between us. “I would not mind the latter, for you appear to be a man worth crossing an ocean for, despite your obvious oversight of fashion.”

His gaze whipped to the coachman stationed atop the carriage before he returned it to the ground between us. “No. I’m only the footman. I’ve been sent from Grandview to collect you.” There was utter desperation in his voice.

“Collect me?” I scoffed in feigned offense. “As though I am your master’s possession? What an absurd and utterly infuriating notion. Pray tell me, do all men in England think so little of the female sex or is that a particular view of Lord Denhurst and his son?”

Excerpted from The Nabob’s Daughter by Jess Heileman, Copyright © 2021 by Heileman. Published by Vagabond Publishing.

About the Author

In kindergarten, Jess won a first prize ribbon for her original creation Pigs in Wigs. It was a solid storyline: there was this pig that wore a wig—and it rhymed. Not impressed? Neither were her children when shown the very masterpiece that influenced her to become an author. “You won a ribbon for that?” Yes. Yes, she did. Thankfully, life has since exposed her to a thorough education with its share of awards and accolades—and, more importantly, to the trials and human experiences that form the heart of a storyteller and the substance of great stories. Besides her love of writing, Jess is an avid reader, shameless people observer, international café loiterer, and partially retired photographer. She loves being a mother to five amazing humans and a wife to the greatest man she knows.

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