I’m not sure why I titled this blog that way, except that I’m going to give you a gift today. It’s Christmas Day and I’m not here, I’m at Son’s house celebrating with my family. I hope all of you are doing the same or if not, enjoying a quiet day full of good food, good wine (if that’s your preference), and something sweet, as well as moments of peace and coziness.
Here is my gift to you–the cover (Isn’t it gorgeous?) and the title reveal for the first Weaver Sisters story, Home to River’s Edge. It is Jasmine Weaver’s story and here is the blurb and the cover!
When Jasmine Weaver, the chief of staff to a powerful D.C. congresswoman, chose integrity, she didn’t anticipate ringing in the New Year disgraced, unemployed, and sleeping in her childhood bedroom. Now back in River’s Edge, Indiana, identical triplet Jazz has her sisters’ support while she plans her next steps. She agrees to lead the committee for their high school’s fifteenth reunion, never dreaming that her co-chair is the man who broke her teenage heart.
As the new CEO of Walker Construction, Elias Walker has taken the family business to new levels of success. He’s buried himself in work to ease the grief of losing his fiancé several years earlier and wants nothing more than to be a carpenter again. Elias grudgingly agrees to co-chair the high school’s reunion committee, but when Jazz Weaver blows into town, suddenly anything seems possible.
These high school sweethearts have lived half their lives apart. Can they reinvent themselves back in the town where it all began?
And here’s a tiny snippet from Jazz and Eli’s story:
What had happened two years ago that stopped him from building? She closed her eyes for a second, a vague memory returning. Something Jen had told her about Eli Walker . . . oh, God, his fiancée had died . . . or been killed . . . or something. “Eli, is this about the woman you . . . you lost?”
His eyes widened and he glanced up the hill, clearly seeing more than snowdrifts and ice-covered pine trees. “Yes,” he replied simply, and gestured to the open car door.
Oh, what the hell? It was New Year’s Eve, she was exhausted in every possible way, and whatever he was up to, it beat the heck out of knocking on her parents’ door like a lost puppy. The longer she could put that off, the better. She slid into his SUV, dropped her bag on the floor at her feet, but clutched the whiskey bottle in her lap. A day that had started out crappy enough in Washington was turning flat bizarre.
Just breathe. So she did.
Several cleansing breaths later, she gazed at Eli as he started the car and headed up the hill on the snowy road. The trees sparkled in the late-afternoon sun, and even though she noted a house here and there along the way, the landscape was mostly old forest, reminding her of hikes through the state park back when she and Eli were dating.
Her mind sorted through other snippets of news she’d heard about him from her sisters over the years—he’d gone to Purdue and came back after graduating to work in his family’s construction company. Seemed like she’d read online in the Evening World—River’s Edge’s twice-weekly newspaper—that his dad and uncle had retired a few years ago and made Eli the CEO of Walker Construction. Hmm . . . She took a breath, the kind of breath you took if you were preparing to ask a lot of questions, but then changed her mind and asked only one. “So you think me hitting your car was a sign from . . . her? The universe? God?”
He blushed. “You don’t believe in signs?”
“I don’t believe in much these days.” The words sounded too cold even to her own frustrated self, so she shook her head and amended, “I mean, I dunno. I’ve never thought about signs.”
“They’re everywhere”—he tossed her a smile—“if you’re open to them.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve always depended on my own instincts.” She laughed grimly. “And yet, look where I am. Unemployed, single, pissed off, back home with my tail tucked ’tween my legs, and once again in a car with my high school boyfriend. Maybe I need a sign.”
Gratitude for this week: A fun evening seeing the drive-thru light display and then time for wine and chat with friends Mary and Bob; I didn’t bake cookies or make fudge this Christmas and lightning didn’t strike me dead; I did bake rolls for the neighbors with Son on Tuesday–a good day; hugs from Grandboy, whose hugs give me life; fresh mani for the holidays–red with snowflakes on one finger…fun!
Stay well, stay safe, be kind, have a happy holiday, and most of all, mes amies, stay grateful.