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Friday, December 5, 2014

Book Fun Friday Welcomes Back Jennifer Eaton



 Book Fun Friday Welcomes Back Jennifer Eaton
With a Christmas Love Story!


 Jennifer M. Eaton

Corporate Team Leader by day, and Ranting Writer by night. Jennifer M. Eaton calls the East Coast of the USA home, where she lives with her husband, three energetic boys, and a pepped up poodle.
Jennifer’s perfect day includes long hikes in the woods, bicycling, swimming, snorkeling, and snuggling up by the fire with a great book; but her greatest joy is using her over-active imagination constructively… creating new worlds for everyone to enjoy.



 Today Book Feature: Paper Wishes





 on sale for .99 cents today!

http://www.amazon.com/Paper-Wishes-Jennifer-M-Eaton-ebook/dp/B00ECZE8VG/ref=asap_B00BEP9L1E_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1417800447&sr=1-2


Log Line Be careful what you wish for.

Book Tag Line : Jill has no idea what she wants for Christmas, but when it looks like her best friend Jack is going to get exactly what he asks for, Jill makes a Christmas wish that will change both of their lives forever.


Book Excerpt:

I scrolled the words Dear Santa across the page. For crying out loud, how stupid is this?
“Come on, Mom,” Nicole said, placing a long fold in her letter. “It’s not that hard.”
I dropped my pen on the table. “It’s hard if you’re a grown-up.”
“Just write down what you want.” She bent and tucked the folds together, molding her letter into a perfect origami star.
“But I don’t want anything.”
Nicole held up her creation, scratching a freckled cheek. “Everyone wants something.” She fastened a paperclip to her star and hung it on the Christmas tree. The matte paper stood out from the bright glass ornaments.
I ran my fingers across my bare neckline. I’d love to have back the ornate silver and gold necklace that Nicole broke a few months ago, but I couldn’t write that. It would hurt her feelings.
“I’m too old to be writing to Santa,” I announced.
“Then write to God. He listens too.”
I narrowed my eyes. Stinker. “Okay…” I placed my pen on the sheet and crossed out Dear Santa. “Okay. Dear God.” I sighed. “It’s not helping. I still don’t know what to ask for.”
I threw my long, dark ponytail over my shoulder and tapped my pen across the sheet, leaving a wavy line of dots marring the clean, white-lined paper.
Nicole shook her head, jostling her auburn locks. “Come on, Mom. Just write something. It’s God. He already knows what you want.”
“Then can He tell me?” The rumble of the school bus granted me a temporary respite. “Grab your lunch.”
“Got it.” She tossed the brown bag into her backpack and grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair. “See you later, Mom.” The screen door slammed behind her, rattling the knickknacks on the shelf beside the door. The frigid December air swirled through the kitchen, pushing the paper across the table.
I tossed my pen to the side and poured myself another cup of coffee. Liquid heaven rolled down my throat. Well, day-old reheated liquid heaven. I tossed the rest down the sink. Coffee Stop drive-through here I come. I popped the last bit of toast into my mouth and grabbed my car keys.
The nearly empty sheet of paper shifted across the tabletop as I passed by. The words Dear God taunted me.
Writing the letter didn’t seem like a game anymore.

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