Mistletoe at Moonglow
A Christmas novella with cookie recipes included!
The Timberton Hotel has always provided a perfect Christmas retreat for regular guests, as well as newcomers. But the small town of Timberton, Montana, hasn't been the same since resident chef and artist, Mist, arrived, bringing a unique new age flavor to the old western town. When guests check in for the holidays, they bring along worries, fears and broken hearts, unaware that Mist has a way of working magic in people's lives. Old-fashioned time spent together, exquisite food, conversation and a snowball or two offer guests a chance to trade sadness for hope. One thing is certain: no matter how cold winter's grip is on each guest, no one leaves Timberton without a warmer heart.
Have you read any of Deborah Garner's books? If so, then I don't have to tell you that you are in for a treat with 'Mistletoe at Moonglow'. If you haven't, then you need to. I'll give you a little sample of the story, and it will immediately be clear as to why I enjoy her writing!
Excerpt from Mistletoe at Moonglow:
Mist set to work, weaving tapestries of eucalyptus and pinecones, bursts of floral colors and dry branches, ribbons and bark. As she created, she hummed Christmas melodies she’d known since childhood, the music of memories. Hours flew by. In the end, a magnificent arrangement spanned the center of the buffet, with miniature renditions of the same on each table.
Mist turned to see Clive standing in the doorway, nodding his head with approval. She smiled. It was a far cry from the western art he displayed in his gallery, but he was clearly impressed. That was the thing about holiday decorations. People’s hearts could bond over them.
“Good afternoon, Clive. What brings you around today? Wouldn't be a certain lady we both know?” His face reddened like a schoolboy caught kissing a pretty girl under the bleachers.
“You can tease me all you want, young lady,” Clive said. “But I’m here to replace a bulb in that entryway chandelier before the cookie exchange this afternoon. I don’t want Betty climbing up a ladder. Her hip’s been bothering her lately. She won’t say so, but I see the way she runs her hand over it when she’s been working too much.”
“I’ve seen her do that, too. I’m glad you’re here to help her.”
“Well, if not me, you’ll be climbing those ladders, too. And we don’t want that.”
“That’s sweet of you to worry about me, but I’m strong and don’t mind climbing ladders.”
Clive laughed. “Oh, I’m not worried about you. I just don’t want you falling and breaking an arm. What would we eat? The whole dang town might just starve.”
Mist swatted him with a eucalyptus branch and pushed him out of the room. Both laughing, they almost bumped into a woman who stood directly under the chandelier in question. They straightened up quickly, like children just caught misbehaving.
“Welcome to the Timberton Hotel,” Mist said, extending her hand.
Deborah Garner is an accomplished travel writer with a passion for back roads and secret hideaways. Born and raised in California, she studied in France before returning to the U.S. to attend UCLA. After stints in graduate school and teaching, she attempted to clone herself for decades by founding and running a dance and performing arts center, designing and manufacturing clothing and accessories, and tackling both spreadsheets and display racks for corporate retail management. Her passions include photography, hiking and animal rescue. She speaks five languages, some substantially better than others. She now divides her time between California and Wyoming, dragging one human and two canines along whenever possible.
Be sure to go pick up your copy, light a fire, grab a blanket and whatever hot beverage you desire ... and enjoy!!!