Blurb:
It’s Christmas time, and Eriah Jameson has returned home to restart his
family’s business. Due to his wild child past, no one is friendly or
welcoming to Barrow Haven’s black sheep.
Aylin Myers lost her job when Eriah’s father took ill. She knows Eriah needs her help getting his business up and running again, but she doesn’t trust him. If he fails, she knows it will dishonor his father’s memory. And Aylin knows that at Christmas, it’s the right thing to help your fellow man—no matter how wretched he might be.
As Aylin gets to know Eriah, she sees a side of him Barrow Haven never saw. That perhaps the black sheep has changed for the better. Still, can she be sure this side of Eriah is real, and not just a facade he’s perfected over time to get his own way?
Aylin Myers lost her job when Eriah’s father took ill. She knows Eriah needs her help getting his business up and running again, but she doesn’t trust him. If he fails, she knows it will dishonor his father’s memory. And Aylin knows that at Christmas, it’s the right thing to help your fellow man—no matter how wretched he might be.
As Aylin gets to know Eriah, she sees a side of him Barrow Haven never saw. That perhaps the black sheep has changed for the better. Still, can she be sure this side of Eriah is real, and not just a facade he’s perfected over time to get his own way?
Excerpt:
It wasn’t as though she had any place better to be during the Christmas holidays.
Aylin Myers enjoyed her quiet existence in her own little world, pouring
candles and crafting perfumed oils from the privacy of her own home.
But the need for an automobile forced her out into the cold.
Her little business exploded overnight, and she desperately needed a car
to make deliveries to bespoke little shops all around, and outside of
the city.
The yearly Barrow Haven
Christmas Market attracted thousands of eager, last-minute holiday
shoppers over one day. It was the perfect way to make a few quick
dollars. Combined with the money she’d saved, buying a used car that
would get her from place to place, was now within reach—If her
handcrafted candles and perfume were a hit with the shoppers.
With perfume titles like
‘Funeral Flowers’ and ‘Garden of Graves,’ her dark wares might scare off
the happy holiday crowds looking for cheap, handmade, feel-good gifts
for their friends, work acquaintances, and of course, their loved ones.
The December weather was
extremely wicked this year. Standing with only the shelter of an open
market stall, on an early Saturday morning, caused Aylin to once again
in her mind justify being outside in below freezing temperatures.
She’d arrived early, and
made the stall as festive as possible, to attract potential buyers. She
wound strings of brightly-colored fairy lights around the support poles
of the shelter, and hung a pine wreath decorated with antique glass
baubles. She bought bunches of fresh mistletoe and holly berries from a
vendor, and hung it from the support beams.
Carefully, she laid out her
assortment of candles. Some from Victorian era molds, she procured by
scavenging antique stores, flea markets, and garage sales. She took the
inspiration for the names for her gothic
scented perfumed oils from her experiences working as a cleaner at a
local funeral home, for several years after her sixteenth birthday.
Unfortunately, the funeral home went out of business when the owner took
ill, and subsequently passed away. It was then she created Aylin’s Dark
Desires.
Behind her, she displayed
her treasured antique photograph collection of daguerreotypes,
ambrotypes, and cabinet cards. The collection encompassed the time from
the Civil War era until early twentieth century. Several of the photos
depicted homes and businesses in Barrow Haven. Maybe the Christmas
shoppers might appreciate a little hometown nostalgia.
By ten that morning, the
market was alive with holiday shoppers. Christmas carols blared over a
loudspeaker, and snowflakes filled the air. To her delight, business was
brisk, and by lunchtime, she’d sold half her stock. By two, she was
nearly depleted, and ready to call it a day. She began to pack up two
broken candles she could melt down to make new ones at a later date.
“Don’t I know you?”
Aylin looked up at the sound of the unfamiliar masculine voice.
The black sheep of Barrow Haven was back in town.
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Author Bio:
Natalie-Nicole Bates is a book reviewer and author.
Her passions in life include books and hockey along with Victorian and
Edwardian era photography. Natalie contributes her uncharacteristic love
of hockey to being born in Russia.
She currently resides in the UK where she is working on her next book
and adding to her collection of 19th century post-mortem photos.
Visit Natalie-Nicole Bates Online!
Thank you so much for featuring Christmas with the Black Sheep!
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