The Joke is on . . . someone (in each story).
Available on Amazon today: KINDLE .99 ⇐click link
(If you missed last week’s sneak peek of Mirror, Mirror by J.A. click HERE)
ONE OF MY FAVORITE author/friends added her talent to this collection. She’s one of the BEST romantic comedy writers, and I’m honored to know her. Today, we’re offering a sneak peek at the first scene in Lisa Crane’s novella, Where Angels Fear to Tread. This story made me laugh on one page and cry on the next. For all who feel they’re irredeemably “scarred” for life, the love of Jesus illustrated in this story will feel like a healing balm to the deepest part of your soul.
Growling low in her throat, Quinn slammed the front door. It bounced back, and she grabbed the knob and proceeded to slam the door again. Four times.
She faced the door, breathing as if she’d just finished a marathon. With one hand she braced herself against the wooden jamb. After a long moment, she lifted her head and turned around, wanting only to go to her room and go to bed with a good romance novel. Heaven knew there was certainly no romance in her life.
“Hey, Quinn.” Her cousin offered an apologetic smile and a half-hearted wave. “I guess you forgot I was having some friends over to watch the game.”
“Oh … Drew.” She squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe the people sitting around watching basketball would be gone when she opened them. Nope. Still here. “I’m sorry. Don’t mind me. I’ll just … get out of your way.”
She’d nearly reached the kitchen when he called her name again. She considered ignoring him, but knew it would be rude. Sighing, she turned back. “Yes?”
“Everything okay?” His question hung in the air, an unintentional grenade waiting for her to pull its pin.
“Um … sure.” Her smile wavered. “Fine. Y’all go back to …” She waved in the general direction of the television.
Reaching the safety of the kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Funny how Drew made fun of her for drinking bottled water, but didn’t seem to think anything about his friends drinking the supply she kept in the refrigerator.
With a sigh, she turned to leave the kitchen, only to crash into a wall. The wall reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, keeping her from tumbling to the floor.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” A deep voice rumbled from the wall. “Or knock you down.”
“It’s okay.” Habit kept Quinn’s head lowered, her hair swinging forward. Raising only her gaze, she looked up into a pair of dark blue eyes. “Excuse me.”
He released her and stepped back. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” He stuck out a hand. “Rowan Hart.”
“Quinn Nichols.” Her mumbled introduction was less than hospitable, she knew, but she wanted only to get past this guy, this Rowan, and go to her room. She sidestepped him. “Nice to meet you. G’night.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” His friendly voice followed her down the back hall to her room. “Maybe I’ll see you again—”
Her bedroom door shut out whatever else he might have said.
Quinn toed off her sparkly ballet flats, kicking them toward the open closet, and flopped backward onto her bed. Setting the water on her nightstand, she draped an arm over her eyes, finally giving in to the tears that had burned all the way home from the restaurant.
Connect with Lisa: