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Heather Gray

Flawed...but loved anyway.

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Wordy Wednesday

Hi Everyone!

Welcome to Wordy Wednesday!  Share an excerpt fewer than 500 words from your family friendly book in the comments below.  Be sure to include the title and one buy link.  Then go spread the word about this post so even more people will find it.

Happy reading (and writing)!!


MY EXCERPT

An Informal Christmas - Click to Buy

Rylie ran for the elevator. A man in a faded denim jacket stood inside with the back curve of his left shoulder facing her. He didn’t acknowledge her high-speed sprint in his direction. Nor did he stop the two brushed steel panels from sliding closed between them.

She thought of pushing the button and forcing the doors to reopen. Honestly, though, did she want to get stuck in a metal box with a man who didn’t care about basic courtesy toward his fellow mankind? Not likely. Rylie huffed out an exasperated breath as she started up the stairs. Three flights up. It could be worse.

With a shove to the door, she exited the stairwell and stood on a narrow landing with skylights above and a view of the hospital’s lobby below. Ten steps to the left, and she broke through to the hallway-of-no-return. Nobody came up to this floor unless they worked in one of the three departments exiled here. The first door belonged to the chaplaincy. The second led to the main office for the hospital social workers. The third door, decorated with construction paper butterflies and cotton ball caterpillars, was home sweet home — Child Life.

“I can’t believe how rude people have become!” Rylie vented about the man in the elevator as she stepped past the colorful decorations and into her domain. Suzie, the part-time department head who kept their ship running tighter than junior size spandex on a burly linebacker, wasn’t at her desk. Their offices were anything but spacious, though, so she was likely still within hearing distance. After all, what was a good venting without someone to listen?

“I was running for the elevator, but the guy inside didn’t even wait for me. He let the doors slide closed. Because obviously it wasn’t big enough for two of us.” She left out the part about his back being to her. Absolving him of guilt wasn’t high on her priority list at the moment.

Suzie emerged from The Vault, a nether region of their office used for storage. She dusted her hands off and frowned at Rylie. “We have company.” She waved at the man following behind her. “This is Mr. York. He brought several boxes of stuffed animals for our kids.”

No way. Not… Lots of guys wore denim jackets, right? It couldn’t be the same…

“Sorry about the elevator. I got wedged into position by my dolly. I thought I heard someone calling, but by the time I turned myself around, the doors were closed and I was on my way up here.” His voice reminded her of a lemon tart, decadent smoothness with a sharp aftertaste. For some reason, she found herself tempted to savor the sound rather than pucker. Too bad her mind was already made up about him. He might have proven interesting.

Go Back

An excerpt from The Long Road Around the Corner of Hope
https://www.amazon.com/Long-Road-Around-Corner-Hope/dp/1502821931/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1489580223&sr=1-4&keywords=faye+wilson+walton
She hoped she wasn’t imagining this, but Jenna thought she heard a knock on her door. She dried her eyes and took a few deep breaths, looked through the peephole and saw Alyson!
Alyson quickly stepped inside and embraced Jenna. “I just felt like I needed to come by and see you, to make sure you were okay.”
Jenna buried face in Alyson’s shoulder. Her pain was so bad she couldn’t make eye contact with her friend.
“Oh…thanks.” That was all Jenna could say.
Alyson guided Jenna to the living room, where Jenna fell to the floor.
“Please…tell me I’m going to be okay.” Jenna covered her face with her hands, catching the tears as they came from her eyes.
“Yes, Jenna, you will be fine.” Alyson’s voice was soft and gentle, she had one arm around her and held Jenna’s hand. She touched her friend’s cheek and dried the tears away, then reached behind her to get the box of tissues from the end table.
“Really?”
“Yes, Jenna, you will,” Alyson said, with more emphasis.
“Am I really going to make it?”
“I know you will. I believe in you, Jenna. I know you’re going through a hard time right now. How hard it is for you, I will probably never know. But I had to come by here to let you know that I love you and am thankful that you’re my best friend. No matter what happens to you, I’ll always be here for you. And whoever rejects you is missing out on what you have to offer.”
“Oh…thanks, Alyson,” Jenna managed to say. “I know that if I didn’t have you in my life right now, I probably would have done something to hurt myself.” She had to be honest in what she thought.
Alyson held Jenna closer. “Now, Jenna, you can’t do that. We need each other. I can’t live my life without you.”

MENDING THE MOTOCROSS CHAMPION
99-cent St. Patrick's Day eBook sale through Sunday or read free with Kindle Unlimited
http://amzn.to/2mNjWsA

Seven years was a long time.

The walls of the room closed in on Dana with every step the nurse took toward the door. She folded her hands in her lap in a gesture of prayer, but no words formed on her lips or in her mind. Finally, she looked at Mac—really looked at him, not just the still form on the bed. Seven years was a long time. All she knew now of this familiar stranger was what she heard from her friend Sari Reynolds—a major motocross fan—and read in the racing magazines Dana couldn’t stop herself from buying.

A few cuts and scratches on his face from the accident only emphasized the look of a fallen angel that had first drawn her to him when he’d sauntered into the youth group meeting at church all those years ago. His sole purpose had been to get her attention, get her to date him to spite her father. It had worked better than he ever could have imagined.

Her gaze moved up his face. His hair! It was cropped close to his head. She looked for signs of a head injury, but saw none. He’d cut his hair. As long as she had known Mac, he’d worn his hair cheek-length in front, parted in the middle. When he’d bent to kiss her, the chestnut curls had brushed her face, tickled her chin. She raised her hand to her cheek—remembering.

Mac moved, rustling the sheets and bringing Dana back to the present. He groaned and slowly opened his eyes, as if the effort might be more than he could handle. “Dana?” His cracked lips silently formed her name.
She blinked back the tears that threatened to pour down her face and took his hand in hers. “Yes, I’m here.”



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