When Jan Selbourne and I (writing as Anne Krist) decided to write a Christmas book last year, it was totally spontaneous and fast. I think within three weeks we tossed the idea to each other, wrote our novellas, and published the ebook. This year, the book is also available in paperback.
The book is written as two novellas and set during the Vietnam War. Jan’s story is set in the Australian Outback and mine in the USA heartland. Both feature soldiers dealing with extraordinary conditions and coming out better men. Mine has more than a touch of the paranormal. I really love my story but found I love Jan’s just as much—her style and adeptness at historical fiction is well-recognized. What I hope you discover about each of our stories is that war or peace, home or away, lonely or safe in love, Christmas is the time for light, joy, and…miracles.
Blurb:
Two exceptional novellas featuring two men engulfed in a war no one understands or wants—Vietnam. They’re both hoping for a miracle with little expectation of finding it.
Buy link:
Amazon Kindle
Unlimited
Miracle in the Outback
HMAS Sydney, known by the troops as the ‘Vung Tau Ferry’ was now out of Australian waters and steaming steadily north towards its destination. The sea had been rough for the last two days but today was calm and the four hundred and fifty men housed in the sailors’ mess decks were moving around again. Nick propped the pillow under his head and tried to focus on his book, but the words ran into each other. Closing the covers, his mind drifted back, once again, to the letter he’d got from Trevor two weeks before boarding the ship.
I’m sorry I didn’t write earlier Nick, but I was embarrassed and angry. Not at you, at my father and brother. Your mother was good to us, and we took her for granted. I didn’t see it when I was a kid, but I know now dad only wanted someone to look after him and Kevin and me, and I’m sorry about that. You know I hated that farm, hated the dirt, hated the isolation. A few weeks ago, Dad bought two hundred acres between Inverell and Glen Innes, saying he can afford to be a hobby farmer. Kevin bought land somewhere near Armidale. Now I can join the theatre group and dad can’t stop me. I’m sorry about what happened, sorry you and Elizabeth and Karen were left out. I want you to have some of my share. Best wishes, Trevor.
A cheque for $5000 was enclosed.
Nick closed his eyes. Poor bloody Trevor. Nervous of his father, scorned as a pansy by Kevin. In tears when their chickens and dogs died, cried from nightmares. He’d returned the cheque with a curt, ‘stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.’ Now he regretted not writing a more friendly letter wishing Trevor well. And Liz, he’d told her not to see him off. He didn’t want her bawling all over his shirt, but she’d insisted. “You’re my brother, you big ape, I’ll worry myself sick over you.” They’d both ended up crying on each other shoulders. He heard the bunk next to his creak.
“You awake, Nick?”
Nick opened his eyes. “I am now.”
Sam was one of the hundreds of national servicemen on board. Twenty years old and hadn’t travelled more than twenty miles from his home at Maitland until he was called up. Ginger hair and freckles and shy.
Nick sat up. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, we were playing cards then a few of them started talking about what’s ahead.” He stared at the floor.
“Let me guess. Full of bravado, kill a few commies, clean up the country and go home wearing a chest full of medals.”
The ginger head drooped. “It’s all right for you, Nick. You’re ground crew, looking after the tanks and heavy vehicles.”
“I also drive the tanks and heavy vehicles, Sam, and I’m telling you those big mouths are as shit-scared as you and I are.” He lay back on his bunk. “No different to the blokes in 1914. My grandfather was among the first twenty thousand to sign up to fight for King and Country. They were paid six bob a day and after training, set sail for a war on the other side of the world. Most of them believed they’d teach the Germans a lesson and be home for Christmas. A lot of them worried it would be all over before they got there. After three years in Belgium and France he came home minus a leg and bitter. He’d tell his kids there was no God while he walked them to church every Sunday. Here we are mate, after two world wars and a war in Korea. Don’t listen to them, look after yourself.”
Sam nodded and grinned at Nick. “You got a girl waiting at home?”
Nick grinned back at him. “Yeah, dozens of ‘em. What about you?”
“Meg. Her parents own the shoe shop in Maitland,” Sam dug into the locker behind his bunk. “Here.”
Nick looked at the photo of a pretty girl with a riot of curly hair. “Nice, real nice.”
“I’ll get a cold drink. Want one?”
Nick shook his head. “No, I’m fine thanks.” He waited until Sam walked away and closed his eyes again. A girl waiting at home. Long black hair, a figure that made men go weak at the knees. And sex? Oh, Christ, she’d taught him a thing or two. But Lena wouldn’t wait a week for any man.
Miracle of Coming Home
Awake now, Tom wondered if he’d ever adjust to the feeling of safety again, ever truly believe it existed. He feared he’d always be peering into shadows for the hidden enemy or listening for the almost silent, deadly snick of a landmine trip.
Falling back on the pillow, he stared at the posters on the opposite wall, illuminated by weak moonlight shining through the window. One was for a rock concert held in Omaha four years ago. He’d wanted to take Susan Swensen, but her father wouldn’t let her go the hundred-plus miles into the city with him. Too far, he’d said in his thick Scandinavian accent. Too much can go wrong with a car. Young people can get stranded. Alone.
The last was said with a long, thoughtful stare right into Tom’s soul. How had the man known of Tom’s evil intentions to fake a car breakdown in order to make time with his daughter? Eventually, when she was accepted into nursing school, Mr. Swensen had let Susan go to Omaha. By then, Tom had gone much farther. All the way to Hell, in fact.
The other poster hailed the Fighting Hawks, his high school football team, on which he’d been the star linebacker. Those were heady days. He’d made a great linebacker at the university, too, but a lousy scholar, which was what put him on academic probation and placed his ass squarely in the middle of that worthless strip of land called Vietnam.
Now he wouldn’t even make a linebacker. He skimmed his hand down his chest and across his stomach. Lean—skinny almost. Where once had been bulk there was sinewy muscle. He could still run, though. Oh, yeah, he got lots of practice running. From firing position to firing position, from cover to transport helicopters—black birds hovering over open kill zones to lift guys out of danger or drop them in—and from helicopter back to cover. Some days it seemed he ran the whole damn time.
It felt that way now. But what the hell was he running from?
Tom sighed. There was no going back to sleep. Throwing off the covers, he roused himself from the warmth and sat up, looking at the four walls and feeling dislocated.
This room held the bed where he’d slept since he was six. Today, Christmas Eve, he turned twenty-one. After all those years, the bed should be familiar, and it was. The bed and the room. Both fit, both were comfortable. But Tom no longer was.
It was the same with the house. When he arrived early yesterday morning, he’d sensed something was off but hadn’t been able to put his finger on the problem. Now he knew. Somehow, while he was gone, things had changed, and no one had told him.
His bedroom, the kitchen where he’d watched his mom bake cookies, the living room where he’d beaten his dad at chess for the first time, all felt cramped and alien, as though he’d read about them but hadn’t lived in them. Even his family was all wrong. Gray threaded his mom’s hair, and his dad moved slower. As for his granddad, he was a frail replica of his previous self, with a wrinkled face and almost translucent skin. The loss of grandma had taken him hard. He’d greeted Tom with a smile and firm hug but Tom hardly knew what to say to him.
This life, these people, belonged to a Tom Stabler who no longer existed. The man he was now would have to adjust his thinking to live here again, and learning how would sure as hell take more than one week.
Loneliness clawed at his insides. Here, in the one place he should have felt a part of things, solitude engulfed him. It would have been better to stay in Nam than be here with everything wrong, no longer a part of his home, his family.
Reviews:
Jan Selbourne and Anne Krist creatively interweave emotional circumstances with developments that are frequently unexpected, and the result are stories which I will long remember for their realism. Both novellas are stirringly heartwarming holiday romances. 5 Stars
Well done, both ladies. 5 stars
For heart-warming Christmas romance, the two novellas in Finding a Christmas Miracle certainly fit the bill. 5 stars
5 stars on Amazon with no review Thank you, whoever you are!
Two wonderful books
I enjoyed every turn of the pages. So good to feel the love Always in awe of this wonderful talent Of putting words to paper. Looking forward to the next novellas 5 Stars
I admire how you make women feel like their fantasy can come true. … Well done! Anonymous reader
Selbourne and Krist created two short stories to touch your heart and make you think of family. Selbourne's story speaks to destiny. Her characters are real, harsh, and struggle with their lives. You want to reach into the book and help them both.
Krist's story seems straight forward. Boy goes off to war and becomes lost in the viciousness of it. Girl worries for him and wants nothing more than a moment with him. There's a twist which was unexpected - no spoilers don't worry. This twist transformed the story from the expected to the extraordinary.
The writing of these two authors is stellar. They both have good pacing, good character building, and a good plot. This is a quick read which will be well worth your time. 5 Stars
YOU CAN'T GO WRONG READING THESE TWO BOOKS!! 5 Stars
After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for mĂ©nage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for my newsletter and have access to free reads.
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1 comment:
Finding a Christmas Miracle sounds wonderful! I can't wait to read. :)
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