On the verge of starting her own company—and a fling with the hot star of a TV saga—Atlanta film makeup artist Ashlyn Jennings is willed a mysterious box containing a key from her grandmother’s estate. Mamie Lou, the former Hollywood B-lister who inspired Ashlyn’s path in life, always demonstrated a flair for the dramatic. But did Mamie Lou really expect her to put everything on hold to clean out a mountain cabin no one even knew about? And right at Christmas?When Ashlyn arrives at White Falls Lodge armed with cosmetic bags and designer shoes, little is she prepared to be stranded by a snow storm, irritated by the handsome resort owner who seems determined to peel away her facade, and redirected by a God Ashlyn wants to forget, through Mamie Lou’s real gift … the secret story of her grandmother’s past.
Free on Amazon
December 2nd - 6th
Excerpt from A Holiday Heart
The scent of cedar wafted around them as they walked into the two-story living room.
Ashlyn breathed out an exclamation as she admired the stacked-stone fireplace and loft with shuttered windows that looked over the living space. “Oh, wow.”
Jake smiled at the approval in Ashlyn’s tone. It would’ve rankled if she’d turned her nose up at their best cabin. “I had the maid clean and put fresh sheets on the bed downstairs. The kitchen is stocked with dishes and the linen closet with towels.”
“You mean I can stay here?” Astonishment lit her eyes, then she quickly held out her hand. “I mean, I’ll pay, of course. I just didn’t assume—”
“Of course you can stay here. And of course you won’t pay.” When she started to protest, he added, “Think of yourself as Mamie’s guest.” Except for a muffled thank you, that silenced her. He led her into Mamie’s bedroom, where a gray-and-burgundy wedding ring quilt set the mood for salt-glazed pottery and watercolor mountain vistas.
Ashlyn touched a pitcher with a spray of branches decorating the dresser. As her gaze sought his in wonder, she blinked tears away.
He was softening up to her by the moment, maybe because he understood grief all too well. “Mamie was a huge supporter of local artists. There wasn’t an art show, play, or book signing she didn’t attend. She was well loved here.” To break the mood, he opened the walk-in closet, displaying a collection of clothes and shoes.
“My goodness.” Ashlyn entered, held the sleeve of a fall sweater up to her nose as if to capture a long-gone scent. “These were all hers.” She covered her mouth, and her back convulsed.
Oh no. He’d expected her to exclaim over all the work before her, not have a breakdown. But the reaction showed him something he needed to know about Mamie’s granddaughter.
Jake cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you alone. I just wanted to point out that there are two more bedrooms upstairs, and I’m afraid all the closets are full. Dillard has several secondhand stores. If you want to let me know when you’re ready for a run in, I can load up my truck.”
Ashlyn glanced back at him, wiping her eyes. “Thank you. I just … how am I supposed to decide what to keep and what to give away? And why did she choose me to come here instead of my mom?”
For a moment, Jake saw a lost little girl behind the perfect façade. “I know one thing, Ashlyn. Your grandmother never did anything without a reason. If she picked you for this task, she believed you were the best person for it.”
Ashlyn breathed out an exclamation as she admired the stacked-stone fireplace and loft with shuttered windows that looked over the living space. “Oh, wow.”
Jake smiled at the approval in Ashlyn’s tone. It would’ve rankled if she’d turned her nose up at their best cabin. “I had the maid clean and put fresh sheets on the bed downstairs. The kitchen is stocked with dishes and the linen closet with towels.”
“You mean I can stay here?” Astonishment lit her eyes, then she quickly held out her hand. “I mean, I’ll pay, of course. I just didn’t assume—”
“Of course you can stay here. And of course you won’t pay.” When she started to protest, he added, “Think of yourself as Mamie’s guest.” Except for a muffled thank you, that silenced her. He led her into Mamie’s bedroom, where a gray-and-burgundy wedding ring quilt set the mood for salt-glazed pottery and watercolor mountain vistas.
Ashlyn touched a pitcher with a spray of branches decorating the dresser. As her gaze sought his in wonder, she blinked tears away.
He was softening up to her by the moment, maybe because he understood grief all too well. “Mamie was a huge supporter of local artists. There wasn’t an art show, play, or book signing she didn’t attend. She was well loved here.” To break the mood, he opened the walk-in closet, displaying a collection of clothes and shoes.
“My goodness.” Ashlyn entered, held the sleeve of a fall sweater up to her nose as if to capture a long-gone scent. “These were all hers.” She covered her mouth, and her back convulsed.
Oh no. He’d expected her to exclaim over all the work before her, not have a breakdown. But the reaction showed him something he needed to know about Mamie’s granddaughter.
Jake cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you alone. I just wanted to point out that there are two more bedrooms upstairs, and I’m afraid all the closets are full. Dillard has several secondhand stores. If you want to let me know when you’re ready for a run in, I can load up my truck.”
Ashlyn glanced back at him, wiping her eyes. “Thank you. I just … how am I supposed to decide what to keep and what to give away? And why did she choose me to come here instead of my mom?”
For a moment, Jake saw a lost little girl behind the perfect façade. “I know one thing, Ashlyn. Your grandmother never did anything without a reason. If she picked you for this task, she believed you were the best person for it.”
 Denise Weimer | Denise Weimer writes historical and contemporary romance and romantic suspense mostly sit in her home state of Georgia. She is the author of a dozen traditionally published novels and a number of novellas. As an editor both independently and for Iron Stream Media, a wife, and a mother of two daughters, she always pauses for coffee, chocolate, and old houses. |
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