With all the warmth of a cozy quilt, three authors stitch together Amish tales of hearts joined, friendships patched, and the bright joys of Christmas tradition . . .
A Willow Ridge Christmas Pageant
Seth Brenneman didn't expect his holiday would include rescuing pregnant young Mary Kauffman and her two children. . .or having unexpected feelings for the still-grieving widow. But when they must play the leads in an impromptu live Nativity pageant to help his Amish community, will their roles reveal their hearts--and work a miracle for a lifetime?
A Christmas On Ice Mountain
Matthew Beider and Laurel Lapp's secret wish to marry is a gift their feuding fathers definitely won't accept. And trying to settle their dats' long-standing quarrel is making their holiday anything but merry. Can rediscovering the joys and friendships of Christmas past finally turn their families' futures bright?
A Perfect Amish Christmas
Anna and Felty Helmuth's grandson, Gideon, plans to spend Christmas on a beach in sunny Mexico. But Anna is quite sure he'd rather be with them, snowshoeing, ice fishing--falling in love. And she knows the perfect girl. Not only is Dottie Schrock an excellent quilter and baker, she's having a party. There's just one complication--Gideon is not invited. Dottie has her reasons, but Anna trusts that the spirit of Christmas--and true love--will change her mind, and her future . . .
"Fans of Amish fiction will love the Seasons of the Heart series."--Marta Perry, Lydia's Hope
"A delightful voice in Amish romance. Sweet and funny." --Emma Miller
Seasons of the Heart, connected
Kensington Trade (October 28, 2014)
ISBN-13: 9781617735547 •• ISBN-10: 161773554X
Click on these links to buy this book now!
Excerpt from A Willow Ridge Christmas Pageant
“Are we ready? I think our Nativity’s going to be a huge success, with such a heavenly little angel and a regal king,” Rebecca said as she grinned at each of the kids. “And how’s our main attraction?”
Emmanuel, cradled in Mary’s arms, wiggled when Rebecca smiled down at him.
“He’s been fed and changed, so he’s ready,” Mary replied. She smiled at the little parade walking up the Hooleys’ lane. “And here come our shepherds and the other wise men and angels. Everybody looks really gut, Rebecca. We couldn’t have done this without your help.”
As Rebecca murmured something in reply, Mary lost track of it. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a flowing brick-red tunic was striding up the lane toward her, and while she couldn’t see his eyes, she sensed Seth was looking right at her . . . just as she was gazing at him. Thank you for this night, Lord, as we celebrate the birth of Your son and the beginning of our new life in Willow Ridge, Mary prayed quickly. Help me be your faithful handmaiden, as the Virgin Mary was so long ago.
“Let’s hope this works the way I envisioned it,” Rebecca said as other folks began to gather from around town.
Mary turned just in time to see a star-shaped balloon rise into the air, on a long ribbon tied to the light post—and when Rebecca turned on the second lantern, which was aimed skyward, the star glowed and sparkled. Miriam, Ben, Bishop Tom, and the Zook family all let out a delighted oh!
“Folks will be able to see that from quite a ways off!” Tom said. His face shone with boyish wonder as he gazed raptly at the shimmering star above them.
Many moons ago—like, in 1983 while I was still a school librarian—I sold my first story to True Story magazine. This launched me into writing about seventy of those “true confessions” stories over the years, and I’ve been a slave to my overactive imagination ever since. My stories invariably take on a life of their own, different from the way I’ve proposed them: I love it when unforeseen characters and plot twists come along, because they keep me guessing right along with my readers!
I love touring historic homes, trying new recipes, crocheting, and playing with my border collie Ramona—although it’s humbling, having a dog smarter than I am! I’m an ordained Presbyterian deacon, and I devote a lot of time to singing in my church choir and to practicing/performing with our percussion ensemble. I’m celebrating more than thirty-five years with my husband, who—bless him—has never once suggested I get a real job!