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.
Jan Selbourne lends
her award-winning writing talent to A Miracle in the Outback. Nick Saunders is
in a hurry to escape a family argument and also to return to his Army base in Wagga
Wagga. He doesn’t need another complication. Rachel Garth is a woman with a broken
down car, a small girl, a deadly snake, and a baby on the way. She needs Nick’s
help. He doesn’t know it, but he needs hers, too.
In award-winning
author Anne Krist’s The Miracle of Coming Home, Army PFC Tom Stabler wins a
trip to his parents’ Nebraska farm for Christmas. He needs the time away from the
war. Lately, he’s been feeling lost and too alone. Trouble is, being home is
almost as bad. Then Susan Swensen arrives, just as sweet and pretty as he remembers.
Can Susan help him find himself again, or will it take a miracle?
Buy link:
Amazon Kindle
Unlimited
Excerpt:
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
A little about me:
A
few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning
fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk
with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.
After a while, Dee split her
personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and
Jenna Stewart for ménage 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.
Author
links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog:
http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter:
http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter:
https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy
Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K
