Christmas Diamond, a Novella: Inspired by The Jewel series and the Virtues and Valor series (17 page)

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Authors: Hallee Bridgeman

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BOOK: Christmas Diamond, a Novella: Inspired by The Jewel series and the Virtues and Valor series
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The waitress came back to the table to refill the man's lemonade and Aria ordered a cup of decaf with cream, no sugar, then folded her hands and waited. The man across from her sat up a bit straighter then took a deep breath and finally spoke.

"Hello, Aria." His voice flowed over her like a warm baritone blanket. It was deep and comforting and frighteningly familiar. He removed his sunglasses. Ice blue eyes, almost silver in color, calmly met her glance. Already tense muscles contracted in her stomach and around her heart, stealing the breath from her body and sending a surge of adrenaline that made her palms sweat even though her fingers felt ice cold. Her throat let out a startled gasp as recognition dawned.

It can't be!
her mind screamed.
It's not possible!

"How've you been?" he asked. "You look even more beautiful than I remember."

Aria didn't know what to say, literally shocked speechless. She had never spoken to a ghost. Her mouth felt so dry that the air coursing in and out of her lungs scorched her throat. Finally, she made an attempt. "What? … How? …"

Nicholas "Nick" Williams leaned forward and spoke very quietly but with great urgency, his low voice pitched for her ears alone. "It's okay, Aria. It's a long story, and I'll be happy to share it with you. But I have to call my superiors in less than twenty minutes, so right now, just show me what you have. We can stroll down memory lane later on, okay?"

Aria finally felt able to speak. She gripped the wrought iron chair handles beneath her fingers until her muscles ached. "You aren't Nick Williams," she announced as she stood. "Nice try, but I buried Nick ten years ago."

¯¯¯¯

EXCERPT: A CAROL FOR KENT

PLEASE
enjoy this special excerpt from the upcoming full length Christian suspense novel,
A Carol for Kent
, Part Three of the
Song of Suspense
Series.

¯¯¯¯

BIRTHDAY
girl Lisa Mabry had selected her favorite pizza parlor for her seventh birthday lunch, as she had every year since she could pronounce the word, and brought best friend since kindergarten Amy Bradford along with her, as she also always had since the day they met. The two little girls giggled and whispered as they ate green olive pizza with extra cheese, and Assistant District Attorney Carol Mabry intentionally let the go of the memory of her morning spent at the funeral parlor.

She forced herself to focus entirely on her daughter while they were in the restaurant. By the time they piled back into her Jeep, she had mentally left murder and autopsy reports behind, and transformed from A. D. A. Carol Mabry into just Carol, just Ms. Mabry, just Lisa's mom.

The drive to the ranch took twenty minutes, and the girls sat in the back seat, continuing their whispered conversation. The whispers got louder until they were full-fledged yells, and Carol finally interrupted them. "Girls! What are you two arguing about?"

"Ms. Mabry, who do you think is cuter? Tim McGraw or Bobby Kent?" Amy asked. Carol felt her stomach tighten.

"I told you, Bobby Kent is way cuter than Tim McGraw. Besides, Tim McGraw is married and has like a dozen kids. Bobby Kent isn't married, so that makes him even more cute," Lisa said. "Plus, he has the same name as my grandma and grandpa. That's even more extra points."

"What do you think, Ms. Mabry?" Amy asked again.

Carol refused to get a headache on Lisa's birthday. Sometimes, tension and stress built up so that she would get headaches that made her have to lie down in a darkened room and fight back tears of pain. But it wasn't going to happen to her today. "I think you two should play rock-paper- scissors, and whoever wins is right," she said, turning onto the drive that led to the ranch house.

The game brought on another bout of arguing, but by then, Carol was out of the vehicle and didn't have to listen to it. She looked around her, but it didn't look as if anything had been done to prepare for the party. Marjorie was so efficient that Carol usually had nothing to do by the time she came over. She began to get worried that something had happened to Robert. She turned to the girls as they got out of the Jeep. "Lisa, go look in on the new foal Lightning dropped yesterday. I'm going inside to see what grandma's up to."

"Ok, Mommy. Come on, Amy," Lisa said, then they took off at a run toward the horse barn.

"Don't go inside the stall without grandpa. Just look!" Carol called to them, then turned to go in the house. She had her hand on the door when Marjorie opened it and stepped out onto the porch. Carol immediately knew something was very wrong.

"Carol," Marjorie greeted, then she stopped.

"What's the matter, Marjorie?" Carol asked, taking the older woman's arm and guiding her back to the door. "What happened? Is Robert all right?"

Marjorie put her hand over her face and burst into tears. "Oh Carol. I'm so sorry." Carol steered her through the door and into the kitchen. Marjorie sat in a chair at the table and buried her face in her hands, her body wracking with sobs. Carol looked and saw Robert seated at the table. He looked so frail, like a strong wind might just break him to pieces. He reached out to take his wife's hand.

"Robert, what is it? What happened?" she asked. She started really feeling frightened.

"Carol," he whispered, then cleared his throat and stopped. He cleared his throat again, then said in a stronger voice, "Whatever happens, whatever get's said, you have to know that we are truly sorry. Don't let this spoil Lisa's birthday."

"What's going on?" Carol demanded, her teeth set. "Tell me right now. Right this second."

¯¯¯¯

UNOBSERVED
until this moment, international Country music superstar, Bobby Kent, studied Carol Mabry from the doorway of his parent's kitchen. The anger at his parents burned through his system slow and low, like an underground lava flow. They'd decided to tell him about two hours ago.

His mind rejected the fact that he had a daughter; a seven-year-old daughter. It was too much to fathom at one time. How could two people who professed to love him have kept that information from him? He hadn't been able to get an explanation out of them yet. Both of them had been too upset to make any sense. But he assumed it had something to do with money. It nearly always did. He figured the woman standing over them at the table could shed some light on the subject for him.

He'd known who they were talking about before they'd even said her name. The moment she spoke, he remembered her vividly. They'd met in a classical violin class at the University of Georgia four weeks before he received the call about his demo and packed his bags to leave. He had been amazed with her musical talent and impressed with her in general. He had asked her out and they had shared some lunches and a dinner and gone to a movie together on a double date. They had gone to one dance at the student center.

The night he got the call, they had celebrated. They'd sat on the tailgate of his truck and eaten too many Krystal cheeseburgers with way too much champagne. The celebration had gone until dawn. Bobby assumed Lisa arrived a scant nine months later.

He wanted to turn his anger to someone other than his parents, but he couldn't find it in him to force it onto her. The one thing his father, Robert, had been very clear about was that they had misled Carol all this time. All these years.

Years!

Carol believed that Bobby knew all about his daughter, Lisa. So Bobby ran his hand through his hair and prepared himself to face her righteous wrath. He had a feeling it would take some time to convince her that he wasn't the bad guy, here.

He stepped fully into the kitchen, his boot hitting the linoleum, causing a sound that reverberated through the room. Carol stiffened, as if she knew who she was about to see, and turned to face him. He watched the recognition come instantly, and suddenly her hazel eyes filled with burning rage so powerful he almost wished he hadn't made his presence known.

"Oh, of course! Should have known," she bit out through gritted teeth. "Exactly what are you doing here? Today of all days?"

He didn't know how to begin, so he decided to start with his defense. From the look on her face, though, he wasn't sure she would even hear his words. "I didn't know, Carol."

¯¯¯¯

Fifty Shades
of Gravy

HALLEE'S GALLEY VOLUME 1

Fifty Shades
of Gravy

While confronting and redeeming a recent popular secular phenomenon, Hallee Bridgeman, A.K.A. "Hallee the Homemaker" rides the gravy train to triumph and hilarity with her premiere cookbook, revealing the secrets of the penultimate comfort food – gravy. Fifty Shades of Gravy "a Christian Gets Saucy!" is a cookbook wrapped in a parody surrounded by a comedy with a tongue firmly inserted into a cheek – but the recipes are deadly serious and may leave readers licking the gravy boat.

Her famous whole food, real food recipes bathe in luxuriant liquid comfort with recipes that are sure to captivate and enslave any audience.

Hallee starts with stocks and broths and then explores every shade of gravy you can whip up. Some recipes are entire meals and some are simple sauces while still others are gravies served alongside a traditional holiday feast.

There are meaty gravies, comfort food gravies, vegan gravies, gluten-free gravies, and even chocolate gravies! For any gravy question you were too ashamed to ask, this saucy Christian shares the answer.

Visit
http://tinyurl.com/50gravyshades
for more saucy information.

THE WALKING BREAD; THE BREAD WILL RISE!

HALLEE'S GALLEY VOLUME 2

THE WALKING BREAD; THE BREAD WILL RISE!

While confronting and redeeming a recent popular secular phenomenon, Hallee Bridgeman, A.K.A. "Hallee the Homemaker" finds every grain of truth in her second whole food, real food cookbook with in-depth analysis and amazing recipes of yeast breads, quick breads, sourdoughs, and breads using grains other than wheat. The Walking Bread is a cookbook wrapped in a parody surrounded by a comedy with a tongue firmly inserted into a cheek -- but the recipes are "dead serious" and may leave readers searching for all the tasty bread crumbs.

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