She's traded everything for her job. He's turned his back on the world. Can two stranded souls open themselves up to love?
Tabitha has her sights set on the top of the corporate ladder. She has all the plans in the world to make more time for her family after locking down her Wall Street promotion. But when her stubborn father needs convincing about heart surgery, she jumps in her car and speeds toward home… straight into a snowbank…
Arnie doesn't ask for much. All the widower war vet wants is his farmland and his privacy. But when a fast-talking city slicker crashes her car near his house during a blizzard, he's forced to take her in. After Tabitha pries into a past he'd rather forget, he wonders if he'd be better off in the storm…
As the snow piles higher and Christmas approaches, Tabitha and Arnie begin to warm up to each other. Is Arnie willing to open himself up to a better future? When the snow melts, will Tabitha make a sacrifice for what her heart truly desires?
“Snowstorm is a contemporary Christian romance for the career-driven age. If you like heartwarming stories, resilient characters, and a deeper look at what really matters, then you'll love this Christmas inspirational romance.”
Buy Snowstorm to cozy up with a wintry romance today!
Tabitha’s fingers felt like ice, and she had long since lost the feeling in her toes. Her teeth clattered uncontrollably.
After long moments of walking, with only her quiet puffs of air for company, a faint light glowed through the curtain of snow. Barely daring to hope, she walked faster. The light—actually two lights, close together—grew steadily brighter. Thank God. Bless the people who live here, whoever they might be.
As a child, she had often wondered who lived in small farmhouses like this, nestled off the beaten path. Perhaps an older couple. Or a nice big family, with lots of children and a dog. She liked dogs. One that would lay its great head on her feet and warm them.
Or maybe a hermit with a shotgun.
At last, the outline of a medium-sized, one-story house loomed out of the darkness. Brick columns supported the small front porch. She climbed the steps, noting the porch swing to her right, and the welcome, hollow sound of wood beneath her feet. Bright windows flanked the solid wooden front door.
A porch swing was good, right? Surely no homicidal maniac would own a porch swing.
Was her mind beginning to slip? She raised her fist and pounded on the door before old horror movie commercials could gallop through her mind. Of course, she’d seen none of those movies. She didn’t like to be scared. She didn’t want to be scared right now.
Surely someone was inside. The lights were on. Tabitha pounded harder. “Hello?” she called out. “Help! Please.”
A chain rattled, and then a deadbolt clicked.
The door swung open. Tabitha gazed up at a very large man. She swallowed.
Now here was a man she would not want to meet in a dark alley in New York City.
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