Author: Sheila
Roberts
On Sale
Date: September 24, 2019
9780778309611,
0778309614
Trade
Paperback
$16.99
USD, $21.99 CAD
Fiction
/ Romance / Contemporary
304
pages
Sometimes you need to look beyond the big
picture to see what really matters
Olivia Berg’s charity, Christmas from the
Heart, has helped generations of families in need in Pine River, Washington,
but this year might be the end of the road. Hightower Enterprises, one of their
biggest donors since way back when Olivia’s grandmother ran the charity, has
been taken over by Ebenezer Scrooge the Second, aka CFO Guy Hightower, and he’s
declared there will be no more money coming to Christmas from the Heart.
Guy is simply being practical. Hightower
Enterprises needs to tighten its belt, and when you don’t have money to spare,
you don’t have money to share. You’d think even the pushy Olivia Berg could
understand that.
With charitable donations dwindling, Olivia’s
Christmas budget depends on Hightower’s contribution. She’s focused her whole
life on helping this small town, even putting her love life on hold to support
her mission.
When Guy’s Maserati breaks down at the edge of
the Cascade foothills, he’s relieved to be rescued by a pretty young woman who
drives him to the nearby town of Pine River. Until he realizes his rescuer is
none other than Olivia Berg. What’s a Scrooge to do? Plug his nose and eat
fruitcake and hope she doesn’t learn his true identity before he can get out of
town. What could go wrong?
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Enjoy this excerpt:
From: Olivia Berg, Director, Christmas from the Heart
Date: 5-5-19
To: Guy Hightower, CFO, Hightower Enterprises
Subject: Please reconsider
Dear Mr. Hightower, I understand from your corporate
social resources director that Hightower isn’t planning on making any donation
to Christmas from the Heart this year. There must be some mistake! Surely
you’re aware of the long-standing relationship between your company and our
organization. I’m sure I can count on you for some small amount.
Best, Olivia Berg
Christmas from the Heart
Giving from the heart makes all the difference
Guy Hightower frowned when he saw the email from Olivia
Berg in his in-box. Marla Thompson had been forwarding her emails to him,
keeping him abreast of Olivia Berg’s varied begging tactics, and had finally
even come into his office, trying to dump the load of guilt the woman had laid
on her from her shoulders to his.
“Don’t open it,” he told
himself. He opened it anyway. Then he read it and swore.
Actually, he’d been swearing
ever since meeting with his brothers to discuss the budget back in December. If
either of them had listened to him three years ago, they wouldn’t be having to
pull the company belt so tight now. This was the problem with being the
youngest. It didn’t matter how many degrees you had, how smart you were or what
your job title was. Big brothers never listened.
Hard to listen when you were
going through your third divorce.
That was Mike’s excuse. What was
Bryan’s? Oh yeah. He was a wuss. He always agreed with Mike, no matter what. And
Mike hadn’t wanted to change directions. Never mind that the company was
struggling, keep on doing the same thing. The definition of insanity.
Sorry, Little Miss Christmas.
Times were tough all over. Hightower had kept its commitment to the more
visible causes and turned the little fish loose. And that was how it worked in
the corporate world.
He typed his reply.
Dear Ms. Berg, I regret that Hightower can’t help you
this year. We’ve had to reassess our commitments to various causes. I’m sure
you’ll understand.
Then
he signed off with the time-honored adios: Respectfully, Guy Hightower.
And
if she didn’t understand, well, not his problem. He had his hands full trying
to keep the family company afloat. Maybe now Mike would be ready to take his advice
and diversify.
Olivia
Berg—Livi to her family and friends—read the email from Guy Hightower a second
time. Yes, the message was the same. Really? Really? Who was this man, Ebenezer
Scrooge the Second?
She plowed her fingers through
her hair, the birthstone ring Morris had given her for her birthday catching in
the curls. She was so angry she barely noticed.
With a snarl, she began to type.
You should be ashamed. Your great-grandfather is probably
turning in his grave right now. What’s the matter with you, anyway, you selfish
bastard?
She
pulled her fingers off the keyboard with a gasp. What was she thinking? Was
this any way to get someone to contribute to her cause? And what kind of
language was this? Her great-grandmother would be turning in her grave right
now, along with Elias. Adelaide Brimwell had been a lady through and through.
So had Livi’s grandmother, Olivia, as well as Livi’s mom.
The
thought of her mother made her tear up. How she wished Mom was still around to
advise her. They’d always planned that Livi would take over running the
organization one day, but neither had dreamed that day would come so soon. Her
mother’s heart attack had struck like lightning. Livi’s brother had left town,
moving to Seattle, which was just far enough south to keep the memories at bay.
Livi had stayed put, holding on to every single one, weaving them together into
a lifeline to cling to as she kept Christmas from the Heart afloat.
Oh, Mom. What should I do?
Try again came the answer.
Yes, her mother never gave up.
She’d chased one potential donor for two years before he finally came through.
Livi still remembered the day her mom left the house, clad in a Mrs. Santa
costume she’d created—requisite white wig along with a frilly white blouse and
a red skirt topped with a red-striped apron. She’d taken with her a batch of
home-baked cookies nestled in a red basket and returned home with a check for
five hundred dollars. The man had been a loyal contributor ever since. Livi
still took him cookies every year.
“Persistence pays,” she told
herself as she deleted what she’d typed.
She started over.
I’m asking you to reconsider. Your company is our major
donor, and without you so many people will have little joy this Christmas. Any
amount you can give will be greatly appreciated.
There.
He’d have to be a heartless monster not to respond to that.
Guy
trashed the guilt-inflicting email. What was he, Santa Claus? He had his hands
full keeping his company solvent.
But
then, people like Olivia Berg never considered the fact that a company might
have needs of its own. What made them feel so entitled to sit at the edge of
the salt mine while a man slaved away and then greet him with their hands out
when he emerged broken and bruised? Maybe some of those people always begging
for money should get out there and actually earn
a living. Let them work their tails off, putting in seventy-hour weeks. Sheesh.
Anyway, the company had
already met their good deed quota for the year. The only cause Guy was
interested in now was Hightower Enterprises.
By
the end of the workday, Guy Hightower still hadn’t responded to Livi’s last
email. “You are a heartless monster,” she grumbled, glaring at her empty email
in-box.
“No
word yet?” her part-time assistant, Bettina Thomas, asked as she shut down her
computer.
Livi sighed and shook her head.
“That is so wrong,” Bettina said
in disgust.
It sure was. “They’ve been our
major donor ever since my great-grandmother founded Christmas from the Heart.
Without their contribution how will we put on the Christmas dinner at the
community center? How many families won’t have presents under the tree or
Christmas stockings or a Christmas turkey?” There was no Salvation Army in Pine
River, no Toys for Tots— none of the usual organizations serviced this area.
There had been no need. Christmas from the Heart had it under control.
Until now.
“We’ve had to reassess our
commitments,” Livi quoted. The words left a bad taste in her mouth and she
frowned. “It sounds like something your boyfriend says when he’s dumping you.”
“They are dumping us,” Bettina
pointed out. “But don’t worry. We have time. We’ll find someone else to come
through.”
“Not like Hightower. There must
be something I can do,” Livi mused.
“There is. Go home and eat
chocolate.”
And try not to think bad
thoughts about Guy Hightower.
In all fairness, he probably
didn’t grasp the situation. She’d call him the next day and invite him to come
to Pine River for a visit so she could let him see the need, show him a little
of what Christmas from the Heart did for the community. She could take him to
lunch, introduce him to some of the people in town, put a face—or better yet,
several—to Christmas from the Heart. She’d top it all off by following in her
mother’s footsteps and baking him cookies. Then how could he help but catch the
vision his great-grandfather and her great-grandmother had shared?
Yes, that would do it. Sometimes
you had to be a little patient, give people a second chance.
Excerpted from Christmas From the Heart by Sheila Roberts. Copyright © 2019 by Roberts Ink LLC. Published by MIRA Books.
Author
Bio:
Sheila Roberts lives on a lake in the Pacific
Northwest. Her novels have been published in several languages. Her book, Angel
Lane, was an Amazon Top Ten Romance pick for 2009. Her holiday perennial, On
Strike for Christmas, was made into a movie for the Lifetime Movie Network and
her novel, The Nine Lives of Christmas, was made into a movie for Hallmark .
You can visit Sheila on Twitter and Facebook or at her website (http://www.sheilasplace.com).
Social
Links:
Facebook: @funwithsheila
Twitter: @_Sheila_Roberts
Instagram: @funwithsheila
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