FREE READING SAMPLE: LOOK INSIDE THE BOOKS

Visit New York State's pine-scented Adirondack Mountains and Florida's sun-kissed shores.

Look inside the books on Amazon.👀👀

GRAMMATICAL CRIMES I HAVE COMMITTED: THE GRANDDADDY OF THEM ALL

One click of my computer’s mouse and I was headed toward disaster.

As I put the final touches on my inspirational thriller, "The Face Behind the Veil," and about to e-mail it to my publisher, I decided to change a character’s name from Joseph to Stanley.

In an instant, this global change was made throughout the 600 page, three-part document, which traces the legend of the birth veil through three generations.

That was the only change I made after the book underwent extensive editing. Confident it was error-free, I clicked the mouse and off it went. It wasn’t long before I received the galley proof to review and approve, so the printing process could begin.

Weary of the seven-year project and the tedious historical research that had gone into it, I almost didn’t review the galley. But something in me couldn’t let it go until I did. That must have been Providential.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered how that last minute name change affected a scene where the Christmas story is told. In horror, I read the following.

"Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise: When as his mother Mary

was espoused to Stanley, before they came together, she was found with

child of the Holy Ghost. Then Stanley her husband, being a just man, and

not willing to make her a public example, was minded to put her away

privily. But while he thought on these things, behold, the angel of the

Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Stanley, thou son of David,

fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost . . .. Then Stanley being raised from sleep did as the angel of the Lord had bidden him, and took unto him his wife:" (Matthew 1:18-20, 24).

After getting over my initial shock, I made the necessary changes.

However, rather than globally, I did this the old-fashioned way, one at a time.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flora invites you to look inside her books on Amazon. Published by MillerWords.

The face Behind the Veil: Historical Fiction 

https://www.amazon.com/Face-Behind-Veil-Flora-Reigada/dp/1418443646

The Castle in the Sun Series

Book 1: Love's Sweetest Revenge: Romantic-Suspense

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0785FWH5P/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_WKI3EbXY53W5N

Book 2: Love's Sweetest Deliverance: Romantic-Suspense

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07BBFRHJT?

Where Your Heart Meets God's: Inspiration:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X37MVX/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_9PI3Eb7NZF4TW?fbclid=IwAR0nd9Tmw-

SO, YOU WANNA BE A WRITER?

It was "Sarah's" first time at our writers' critique group. Her eyes wide with expectation, the young woman sat on the edge of her seat. She appeared poised to dazzle us by reading from the book she was writing. Certainly, she believed it destined to be a bestseller.

Our group consisted of journalists, novelists, editors and beginners. We met regularly to evaluate and polish each other's writing. We divided the time, each reading aloud from a work in progress, then the rest of us offering our input. It was our policy to begin each critique with praise, before suggesting ways the story might be improved. This worked until Sarah joined us.

That meeting started out like all the others. Sitting in a circle, we each took our turn. Then Sarah's turn came.

Proudly clutching her manuscript, she cleared her throat and with a big smile, began reading. At first, I thought it was only me to whom none of it made any sense. There was no story or plot, only disconnected thoughts that went nowhere.

Sarah was still smiling when she finished and looked us over, as if waiting for the accolades. We were supposed to begin with praise, but no one could think of even one positive thing. The room was as quiet as a tomb as Sarah's smile faded.

Kay, an editor known for her diplomacy, began. As gently as possible, she told our newbie the truth. Sarah did not take it well. Her eyes filled with tears.

"My husband said the story is wonderful," she blurted, sobbing. 

She then ran from the room, slamming the door behind her. Kay followed, trying to smooth things over. But it was too late. The damage was done.

After that fateful day, I would occasionally bump into Sarah. I tried speaking with her and asked about her writing, but she always brushed me off. The contempt in her face revealed dislike for me and others in the critique group. We were not worthy of her time. Nor were our opinions worthy of her consideration.

That is sad because who knows where her writing could have gone, given some attention. What she read, might have been a seed of an idea that needed guidance and development--like all of our writing projects.

Our critique group would have helped Sarah along her journey. And writing is always a journey, often long and hard.

It is likely that Sarah's husband thought he was being kind by telling her what she wanted to hear, rather than what she needed to hear. She believed him and it impeded her development.
However, I know from experience that the soul of any serious writer is battle-scarred from criticism, harsh editors, brutal critiques and rejection of our work. Still, we go on. We keep writing, learning and hopefully, improving. Of necessity, we develop a thick skin like our friend to the right

As far as I know, Sarah's work never went anywhere.

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been."

A journalist and novelist, Flora invites you to check out the three books in her Castle in the Sun, romantic suspense series.

Book 1, Love's Sweetest Revenge: 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0785FWH5P/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_WKI3EbXY53

Book 2, Love's Sweetest Deliverance.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07BBFRHJT?

Book 3, Love's Sweetest Truth

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09BM9829B/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp

Please also check out Flora's Devotional, Where Your Heart Meets God's.

E-book FREE for a limited time.

            https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X37MVX/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_

WILL LIZ DIE IN THE FOREST?

 

Excerpt from Chapter 1, Love's Sweetest Revenge

Where could Liz run in the vast forest?

Liz forced her thoughts back to the sights and sounds of the forest. She realized something had changed. The forest was quiet … too quiet. The wind had stilled. Birds were no longer singing. Liz paused, her eyes darting one way, then another. As a cloud moved over the sun, a sense of danger crept over the landscape.Suddenly, a snapping twig shattered the stillness and a flock of birds launched into the sky, their chirping and flapping wings fading away. Then, a growl seemed to shake the ground beneath Liz.

She froze, almost afraid to breathe. Is this how it’s going to end for me?

Fear tingled up and down Liz’s spine as her eyes drifted to a clearing, where a black bear was sniffing the air.

She saw two cubs, partly concealed by brush. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Steve’s warnings screamed across her mind. Bears have a keen sense of smell. If you see one, don’t try to run away. Back away slowly. Yell at the bear. Firmly tell it to leave. Get out of here! Especially beware of a mother bear with cubs.

Then, in one horrible moment, the bear charged in her direction. In a blind panic Liz also ran, forgetting everything Steve had told her. Though the episode lasted scarcely a minute, time seemed to move in slow motion.

What will happen to Liz? Find out more in Love's Sweetest Revenge, first in the Castle in the Sun, romantic-suspense series. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0785FWH5P/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_WKI3EbXY53

Book 2, Love's Sweetest Deliverance

Even as Liz revels in her engagement to Carlos and celebrates Christmas with him, she can feel  her ex-husband's cold, blue eyes watching her every move. How far will he go?

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07BBFRHJT?

Book 3, Love's Sweetest Truth:

So, you think your past is past? So did Liz and Carlos,

until Monique and temptation catch up with him in Paris.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09BM9829B?ref_=dbs_m_mng_rwt_calw_tkin_2&storeType=ebooks

* Covers by Mark Miller of MillerWords Books.

Visit them on facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MillerWords

Jewels That Sparkle With Wisdom and Enlightenment

BOOK REVIEW BY FRAN

Where Your Heart Meets God's

This lovely devotional will greet you each morning with a precious jewel. That's what "Where Your Heart Meets God's" did for me. I was greeted by jewels that sparkled with both wisdom and enlightenment. Just as physical jewels have various facets and distinctions, each of Flora Reigada's devotions are novel and hold fresh insight. The author first draws you in with a brief Bible verse, expounds on it, and concludes with a Pearl to Ponder and a Love Nugget. They join together to awaken new views of the ageless Scriptures and to draw the reader closer to the Holy Spirit. Even the cover joins with the interior to stimulate the reader's imagination with the well-chosen symbol of a string of lustrous pearls. Since I can't possibly choose a favorite, I'll close by saying that "Where Your Heart Meets God's" would be an inspirational addition to your daily devotions, and would make an attractive and useful choice as a gift for friends and loved ones.

FIND OUT MORE

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X37MVX/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_

GRAMMATICAL CRIMES I HAVE COMMITTED

                               GRAMMATICAL CRIMES I HAVE COMMITTED                            By Flora Reigada, journalist and novelist

Occasionally, when someone learns I am a writer, they approach me with a big smile. "So, you're a writer. That's great. You can write my book."

Of course, no one mentions anything about paying me. But I can't judge these people because as a fledgling writer, I did the same thing.

No one would write my books, so I did what was necessary--I learned to write them myself and all that involves. This includes hours, days, weeks and even years of writing, re-writing, research and more. Ernest Hemingway got it right. "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." This is said in the Scriptures. "Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body." (Ecclesiastes 12:12b).

But most challenging for me had been editing. I enjoy painting vivid word  pictures. That is where my husband, Dan, steps in. A meticulous, detailed person, he can spot an error like an eagle its prey. Editing my work, he has well-earned his nickname, "Ol' Eagle Eye."

I keep a log of my mistakes discovered by him, others and even myself. Here are some examples. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Dan and I reviewed Love's Sweetest Revenge, Book 1 in my Castle in the Sun romantic-suspense series, he marveled at a character's strength. "Wow! I can't believe Rosa wrestled a bear into  her car."

That is how the following passage sounded to him. "I did bring my rifle after you told me about this latest bear. It's in the car."

In context, Rosa is speaking to best friend, Liz, about Liz's narrow escape from a bear. Another had been sighted. 

Dan and I had a good laugh, then rewrote the passage as follows: "After you told me about this latest bear, I brought my rifle. It's in the car."                         

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------In Love's Sweetest Truth, Book 3 in the series, coming soon, I wrote the following: "Carlos returned to his room, immaculately cleaned by hotel workers." Dan asked me if they had scrubbed him with a big brush.  We re-wrote as follows: "Carlos returned to his hotel room, finding it immaculately cleaned by hotel workers."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------While writing a newspaper story about how a historian became acquainted with Florida history when she thought the state was new, with little or none, I wrote: "A move to Titusville, Florida and the historic LaGrange Cemetery would challenge that perception."Dan asked, "How did she like living in the cemetery?"

The sentence was re-written as follows: "A move to Titusville and a visit to the historic LaGrange Cemetery would change that perception."

Well, that is all for now. More to come.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------                                                        

Please check out my books, published by MillerWords.                            

How could a life and death encounter with a bear, lead to a locket filled with secrets, a vacation in paradise and romance? Find out in Love's Sweetest Revenge, Book 1 in the Castle in the Sun romantic-suspense series.                 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0785FWH5P/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_WKI3EbX                                                                                                                                  

    

"The outside world slips away as you read," a reviewer wrote of 

Love's Sweetest Deliverance, Book 2 in the 

Castle in the Sun, romantic-suspense series.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07BBFRHJT?fbclid=IwAR336mGPTHieznX6dRte2

Might that dream you had mean something? What about that stranger who came to help at the right moment? Find out in Where Your Heart Meets God's.https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X37MVX/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_

                                                            The Jewel of a Giving Heart

(Sample devotion from Where Your Heart Meets God's)

"Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?" (Hebrews 1:14, NIV).
On that steamy summer day, the car trip was too long, the children too crowded in the back seat and our air-conditioner broken. Even the wind whipping in our open windows felt hot and stale. We were all in a foul mood by the time the car overheated.

My husband, Dan, turned off the road into a large service area. It consisted of several bays, all empty but one, where a young woman stood beside her car with its hood up. She watched us as we drove through the lot and pulled in beside her. In retrospect, it seems strange that we would come so close. However, we seemed drawn to her.

When Dan got out of the car, he noticed that there was no mechanic or attendant in sight—only the woman who approached to inquire about our situation and needs.

The kindness on her face was unlike any I had ever seen. It was more than an expression. It was a caring warmth at her very essence. She made me feel safe. Have you ever encountered someone like that?

Find out how she helped us and read about other supernatural encounters in Where Your Heart Meets God's, published by MillerWords.
With 51 "stand alone" devotions, the book may be used for study by Sunday school classes, small groups and individuals.

Find Out More:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X37MVX/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_

I WASN'T READY FOR A FIGHT

The Jewel of God's Power

Sample devotion from "Where Your Heart Meets God's," published by MillerWords.

"God has rolled up his sleeves. All the nations can see his holy, muscled arm. Everyone, from one end of the earth to the other, sees him at work, doing his salvation work" (Isaiah 52:10, The Message).

I wasn't expecting a fight the morning I set out to visit my mother at her home in Queens, New York. I was busy pushing my daughter in a stroller, plus holding my sleeping infant son and an

over-stuffed diaper bag.
Our trip involved riding the New York City subway and I was already exhausted as we stood on the platform, crowded with commuters on their way to work. At last, I heard the train thundering through the tunnel. When it screeched to a stop, the crowd pushed toward the door. Hemmed-in by towering adults, my daughter cried in fear and I found myself struggling. A smartly dressed couple among the commuters was soon beside me.

"May I help you?" the man in a business suit asked.
"That would be great" I replied, moving the diaper bag his way.
"No!" he growled, shoving it away. "I'll take that little boy."
I felt large hands wrapping around my son and pulling. My arms tightened like a vise.
This all happened in a matter of seconds while the crowd was disappearing into the subway car. I knew its doors would soon close, leaving my children and me at the mercy of this couple who I knew would stop at nothing to accomplish their evil.
As the last few people filtered away, great strength came from somewhere outside myself and I yanked my son free. I dashed into the train with my children. We barely squeezed through the closing doors.
My heart pounding, I dropped onto an empty seat, my daughter still wailing and my son still blissfully asleep—his face peaceful as a cherub. But the incident woke me up to the evil around us. Though not yet a Christian, I realized I must have had angelic assistance wrestling my baby from this larger, stronger man, likely stalking the city for babies to sell, or worse. Until that point, I had felt immune from such dangers.
Years later, I realize how much we are all subject to danger, but also to attack from demonic forces, which prowl the earth, ravenous for prey. In John 10:10, Satan is called a murder and a thief. If we are not prepared, he will steal what he can, even our treasure of communion with God through impressions, visions and dreams.
And this enemy doesn't come with horns and a pitchfork. Like the couple who tried to kidnap my son, the thief can come in a suit, with a smile and smooth words. He will try to instill doubt, as he did Eve, in the Garden of Eden. "Did God really say …?"[i]
I remember a pastor saying, "Don't let the devil steal your lunch." I would add, don't let him steal your dreams.

Pearl to Ponder: How do you interpret these words of Jesus? "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10, NIV).

Love Nugget: Hold on tight to your dreams, just as God is holding onto you.
Read more devotions in Where Your Heart Meets God's, published by MillerWords.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X37MVX/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_

SHE CALLED ME AN ELEPHANT!

I see an elephant!

That's what a woman in my church said when she looked at me!

Would you be insulted if someone said that to you?

I was not, because this was done within the context of symbolism, when I was receiving ministry during an "encouragement time."

The woman explained and perhaps what she said to me, will "speak" to you.

"It's been said that an elephant never forgets, but that is really true of God. He will never forget the promises He has made, or how committed He is to keeping them. That is because He can never forget you. His thoughts of you "outnumber the grains of sand."

Hearing that, reminded me anew of God's faithfulness. We (you) are always in His thoughts.

That is just one example of affirming words contained within Flora Reigada's devotional book, "Where Your Heart Meets God's."

Like brightly wrapped gifts beneath a Christmas tree, might some of these be waiting for you, or even a friend who needs encouragement? Open your heart and receive.
With 51 "stand alone" devotions, each with a question and uplifting word, book may be used for study by Sunday school classes, small groups and individuals.

FIND OUT MORE:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X37MVX/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_9PI3Eb7NZF4TW?fbclid=IwAR0nd9Tmw-1DSAUqvlEgT0otztOsImS2Bpdamd6TGnqA4vTUDMRuf2kelu0

THE MAIN EVENT

May the best man win in St. Augustine, Florida, where Liz and Carlos plan to marry at the city’s legendary Love Tree. But Liz’s ex-husband, Steve, is hell-bent on stopping them and he’s ready to duke it out with Carlos.

Can Steve sneak past Jack and his motorcycle buddies to accomplish his evil? Who will prevail? And how does a tiny acorn hold a big secret?

Find out in Love's Sweetest Deliverance, Book 2 in the Castle in the Sun, romantic-suspense series, from MillerWords and award-winning author, Flora Reigada!
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1252949

Visit romantic St. Augustine, Florida from the
comfort of  your own home in Book 1, Love's Sweetest Revenge.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1253744

Is our past really past?  Liz and Carlos thought so until . . ..

Find out more in Book 3, Love's Sweetest Truth.

"A masterfully woven love story," one reviewer wrote.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1253402

Covers by Mark Miller, of MillerWords Books: Visit them on facebook.  https://www.facebook.com/MillerWords

FREE PREVIEW: LOVE'S SWEETEST REVENGE: CHAPTER ONE

Elizabeth Bertelli loved springtime in New York State, where she lived among pine-scented hills climbing toward the Adirondack Mountains, as if to the heavens. Wearing a jacket over relaxed jeans and a T-shirt, she stepped off the back porch to head out for her morning walk. Having left her phone and all communication behind, she felt unencumbered by life’s demands. She inhaled the country air, that even in April, caressed her face with remnants of winter’s chill.

Usually, Liz (as everyone called her) walked along the rural road with her friend, Rosa. But this day,

the singing birds and golden daffodils drew her toward the meadow and woods beyond her home. She thought of painting the scene. Although her art had sold and won awards, it had been far too long since she had picked up a paintbrush.

Pulling her jacket tighter, Liz wished she could leave her sorrows behind. Steve was gone and there was nothing she could do about it. Even the rugged beauty of the area, where he enjoyed hiking and fishing, could not keep him; nor could the rambling old farmhouse Steve’s wealthy parents had given them as a wedding gift.

He and Liz were only in their teens when she became pregnant with their twin sons. She gave birth to the boys at 15 and despite her youth, motherhood came as naturally as breathing. But marriage to Steve always felt like a bad fit, as if she were struggling to walk with tight shoes on the wrong feet. Still in her thirties, Liz felt unattractive and alone.

She couldn’t go home to her parents, since they had recently passed away. Liz recalled their anger when they discovered her pregnancy. They pressured her to have an abortion or give the baby up for adoption, rather than marry Steve.

We don’t like him. He’s selfish and immature and we will not be saddled with his responsibilities.

Liz dismissed their warnings. She was the accident her parents had in their late forties, when they never wanted children. She always felt like an intruder.

Steve and I love each other, she yelled. I’m not going to kill our baby and I won’t give it to strangers. If you try to make me, I’ll run away and you’ll never know your grandchild.

Seeing Liz’s determination, her parents relented and grudgingly accepted her pregnancy, but they never liked or accepted Steve.

In those early days, he would run his fingers through Liz’s flowing chocolate curls, compliment her golden-brown eyes, accentuated by a hint of makeup and call her his curvaceous cutie. But the chocolate curls had since been shorn and the warmth had faded from eyes that now reflected only sadness. Liz still had her curves; however, they had become a bit more rounded.

Toward the end of their marriage, Steve would not let her forget that. His icy blue eyes would view her with contempt, while his words stabbed at her heart. I wasted my youth on you. You’ve let yourself go. Look at you! I don’t even want you anymore.

Liz’s anger simmered. What right does he have to criticize my appearance? Steve’s no Adonis.

Though athletic and muscular when they married, he had packed on the pounds over the years.

I should have suspected something when he began exercising again and losing weight.

Even though Steve was generous with money after the divorce, Liz didn’t see how she could ever forgive him for his cheating. Her mind raged at the memory. How could I even think about him after he left me for that slut?

He and twenty-three-year-old Gloria Hamilton had met at a business convention in the Daytona Beach, Florida, hotel where she oversees social events. Steve had moved to Florida and they were now living together in an oceanfront condominium.

It gave Liz some satisfaction to shed her married name of Cavanaugh for her maiden name, recalling her Italian heritage. Even though her twin sons would always be Cavanaughs, to Liz, the name change was severing her connection to Steve for the way he had severed their marriage vows. The boys also were gone, only they to pursue education, careers and individual lives.

Liz’s heart always swelled with pride when she thought of her tall, lean sons. She could see Steve in their faces, but there was not a hint of his deceitful ways.

A recent law school graduate, Steve Jr. (Stevie) had graduated summa cum laude—the youngest in his class. After the prodigy breezed through his bar exam, he was quickly picked up by a law firm. Tony (named after Liz’s father, Antonio) followed in his father’s footsteps as a chef. He and his wife, Stephanie (Steph) managed a restaurant and had given Liz her only grandchild, Ashley. Each of Liz’s sons held an equal place in her heart.

However, the boys lived hundreds of miles away in the Washington D.C. area. That seemed so far, especially after Steve left. To Liz, that is how God seemed too, but also occupied with things far more important than herself, much like her late father, usually out of reach at the office or in front of the television.

When their sons were growing up, Liz and Steve brought them to church whenever they could, especially on Christmas and Easter. When her boys asked if she believed in God, Liz said “yes,” but her mind was filled with doubt.

These days it was just Liz and King, the young Rottweiler she had gotten for protection at the house, now too lonely and creaky. Thinking of her affectionate pet, she had to smile. Despite his menacing appearance and bark, Liz had often said if a burglar broke into the house, King would probably lick rather than bite. Liz guessed he was less aggressive because she had him neutered.

She looked toward the house, wondering if she should go back for him. But he was sleeping after recent surgery to correct elbow dysplasia, thankfully discovered early in his life. Deciding to let him rest, she continued on her way, occasionally pausing to admire the emerging grass and wildflowers, such as the dandelion-like coltsfoot and clusters of bluets.

As the house grew distant and the shadows of the woods began to creep over her, it struck Liz that in the twenty years she lived there, she had never ventured into the forest alone. An uneasy feeling invaded her thoughts—unseen eyes seemed to be watching.

Trying to put aside her fears, she continued toward the forest, where tall trees swayed against an azure sky. Birds fluttered among the branches, filling the air with their song.

At the edge of the woods, a cold breeze swept in. Liz hesitated, thinking she heard rustling in the brush. In spite of her misgivings, she pressed on.

I can do this. I don’t need any man to protect me, she thought, stepping onto the path Steve had kept clear.

Despite him being gone over a year, the path was still free of overgrowth. It followed one of the many old and often crumbling stone walls, winding through the woods of upstate New York. Most, like the wall on Liz’s property, stood about waist high.

The walls used to mark properties, she recalled Steve telling her in happier times. The stones that have withstood centuries of harsh winters and neglect, show the handiwork of old-time farmers.

Liz’s anger with Steve was never far away.

He’s probably cooking for his bimbo like he did for the boys and me; she fumed, wishing she could bash him over the head—or somewhere else—with one of those stones. This would also be for the wandering eye he had throughout their marriage, as well as his affinity for material Liz considered pornographic. She had confronted him about it, but he dismissed her concerns.

Photography and videos are just art forms. As an artist, you of all people should know that.

I hope your pornography’s enough for you, because that’s all you’re gonna get, Liz snarled, stomping out of the room.

Things were never the same for her after that. Good riddance to him!

Liz forced her thoughts back to the sights and sounds of the forest. She realized something had changed. The forest was quiet … too quiet. The wind had stilled. Birds were no longer singing. Liz paused, her eyes darting one way, then another. As a cloud moved over the sun, a sense of danger crept over the landscape.

Suddenly, a snapping twig shattered the stillness and a flock of birds launched into the sky, their chirping and flapping wings fading away. Then, a growl seemed to shake the ground beneath Liz.

She froze, almost afraid to breathe. Is this how it’s going to end for me?

Fear tingled up and down Liz’s spine as her eyes drifted to a clearing, where a black bear was sniffing

the air.

She saw two cubs, partly concealed by brush. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Steve’s warnings screamed across her mind. Bears have a keen sense of smell. If you see one, don’t try to run away. Back away slowly. Yell at the bear. Firmly tell it to leave. Get out of here! Especially beware of a mother bear with cubs.

Then, in one horrible moment, the bear charged in her direction. In a blind panic Liz also ran, forgetting everything Steve had told her. Though the episode lasted scarcely a minute, time seemed to move in slow motion.

Zigzagging between the trees, she hoped to lose or confuse the bear. However, she could hear it closing in, snapping branches, crunching on the forest floor.

Without thinking, Liz glanced briefly over her shoulder, taking her eyes from the path. In that instant, she tripped on an exposed root and fell, striking her head against the stone wall.

Immediately, the bear was over her. Liz could hear it sniffing and feel its breath, which despite her racing heart and an engulfing dizziness, overwhelmed her with the stench of rotting garbage.

A squealing from one of the cubs sounded in the distance.

While drifting into unconsciousness Liz remembered the Lord’s Prayer from childhood. “Our Father in heaven, Hallowed be your name.” (Matthew 6:9, NIV).

It seemed like only a minute or two later, she opened her eyes to see the stone wall beside her.

Her head throbbing, she realized she must have been face down in the dirt, because she could taste the grit in her mouth. At first she lay still, fearing the bear was nearby.

Maybe it’s best to play dead.

After a while, she gathered the courage to look around, relieved the bear was nowhere in sight. As the world came into focus, Liz saw the sun was bright in the sky, as if it were approaching the middle of the day.

I wonder how long I’ve been here.

Clutching her head, she felt blood in her hair. Then, balancing herself against the wall, she struggled to her feet, spitting out the dirt. As she stood, intermittently taking deep breaths and spewing more dirt, she caught a glimpse of a shiny object wedged between two stones in the wall.

Despite her heart pounding in her temples, she reached for the object and discovering it stuck, pulled it free. A tarnished silver locket and chain was soon in her hand. But consumed with pain and terrified the bear might still be near, she shoved the find into her pocket and stumbled home.
What will happen to Liz? Find out more in Love's Sweetest Revenge, first in the Castle in the Sun, romantic-suspense series, published by MillerWords and available on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0785FWH5P/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp

ONLY HUMAN?

The Jewel of God's Golden Thread
Sample devotion from Where Your Heart Meets God's
"See, I am sending an angel ahead of you" (Exodus 23:20, NIV).

Do certain events seem to weave a golden thread through your life? For me, this involves a snowy day in rural Virginia, when I secured my toddler in his car seat and took off for the store. Driving along a country road, we seemed to be the only moving object in a snowy stillness blanketing homes, meadows and woods.
Suddenly, the car began to slide. Panic and prayer came fast. God, help us!

We plowed into a snow bank, shaken but safe. When I tried to back out, the wheels only spun. We were stuck! Frustrated, I rested my head on the steering wheel. Tears burned in my eyes.

How could I have been so irresponsible to bring my baby out on a day like this? What am I going to do, God?

I soon heard a knock at my window, then looked into the face of a grandfatherly, African-American man. I stared in shock.

Where did he come from? Just a moment ago, no one was there.

This man seemed to have walked out of a cloud. He knocked again.

"Let me help you."

Although I would normally be hesitant to let a stranger into my car, I sensed this man was gentle as a lamb. Unlocking the door, I slid over and let him take the wheel. He quickly maneuvered us out of the snow bank.

"Thank you," I said and as quickly as my helper appeared, he was gone. Forgetting about the store, I inched my way back home.
Something similar happened when I was in New York City, running to catch the subway and my card would not register the fare. Trying again and again, I became anxious. My train was approaching and I needed to catch it. No one paid attention until a grandfatherly African-American man suddenly appeared at my side.
"I can help," he said, taking the card I offered and then getting me through so I could catch the train.
I thanked him as he vanished into the multitudes.
Years later, while wandering up and down city streets, searching for the hospital where my mother was a patient, I entered a building that looked like it could be the place. A grandfatherly African-American man was seated behind a desk in the lobby. I gave him my mother's name and asked if she was a patient.
"The place you want is two blocks away," he said.
To make sure I got there, he came out from behind his desk and walked outside to point the way. I was soon enjoying a visit with my mom.
There were more golden threads involving this grandfather figure and I never put them together until my son asked if this helper could be my guardian angel. That is when I realized these seemingly random occurrences might not be so random after all.
You may recall golden threads in your life too. They could be acts of kindness, protection or provision in a moment of need—maybe a mysterious stranger that came at the right time to lend a hand.
Whatever it might be, it is not chance or luck. It is God letting you know you are under His watchful care, and that life's golden threads weave their way to His heart.

PEARL TO PONDER: Do you believe it's possible to see an angel? Have they shown up in your life?

LOVE NUGGET: You are always within the loving reach of God's angels.

Read 50 additional devotions in Where Your Heart Meets God's, available in paperback and e-book formats. This interactive book is recommended for study by Sunday school classes, small groups and individuals.
Find out more: 
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X37MVX/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_9PI3Eb7NZF4TW?fbclid=IwAR0nd9Tmw-1DSAUqvlEgT0otztOsImS2Bpdamd6TGnqA4vTUDMRuf2kelu0