When romance writers give love stories to the world, we do more than entertain – we share our hope for something better. These imaginative moments of happy-ever-after warm the soul and ripple outward. The world needs more love, and every bit helps.
We hope you enjoy this collection of heartwarming seasonal tales and delicious recipes by twenty-one Bestselling, Award-winning, and Multi-Published Authors from the international Exquisite Quills community: Victoria Adams, Rose Anderson, E. Ayers, Beverley Bateman, Lily Bishop, Barb Caffrey, Helena Fairfax, J.D. Faver, Jennifer Garcia, Romy Gemmell, Vonnie Hughs, Susan Jaymes, Gemma Juliana, Jean Lamb, Lyndi Lamont, Zanna Mackenzie, Janis Susan May, Dee Ann Palmer, Jane Leopold Quinn, Kaye Spencer, and M. S. Spencer.
Every night, as my daddy taught me, I kneeled by my bed and said my prayers. But tonight, I wanted ask for something.
“Now I lay me down to sleep … I pray the Lord my soul to take. Oh, please bring me a mommy. Amen”
“Come on, Frankie. It’s time to go to the park,” my dad yelled from downstairs.
“I’m coming, Dad.”
Wearing my play clothes, a long purple shirt and black leggings, I slid my feet into my shoes and ran down the stairs. I loved the noise it made, like a herd of elephants, as my dad would say, but I always pictured horses.
One last bang rang out, as I jumped off the last step and landed on my two feet. I turned the corner to see my dad at the door with our two Cane Corso dogs, Dante and Beatrice. Dad named them after some epic poem, whatever that was.
Our dogs were special, though. They were blue, well, they looked grey to me, and their hair was short and thick. I loved running my fingers through it, trying to make it stick up. They came from Italy, some sort of mastiff. I didn’t know, really, all I knew was they were big, real big and strong. But we trained them so well that they listened to all of their commands.
Dad always let me hold Dante, and I held the leash loosely in my hand, while he healed on my left. He’d stay there, following my every move until I gave him the “free dog” command. Our walk to the park was quick and when we got there I could tell the grass had been just cut. The strong smell hit my nose. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.
“Alright, you all go play, and I’ll be right here on my bench, okay?”
Jennifer Garcia’s love of travel began when she went to the West Coast to visit her father at the age of three. Her home until she was sixteen was a small coastal town near Boston. She currently resides in Los Angeles with her husband, two sons, and two dogs.
Her lifelong love for reading and writing was put aside for many years while she made her way in the world and nurtured her young family. Even though she is older, and life never seems to settle, she’s finding her way. Believing she can do it all, with the help of her family, she worked on her first novel during the late hours of the night while balancing the rest of her life during the day.
Jennifer believes in writing love stories that connect families and touch hearts.