Completions and Connections by Kathryn R. Biel
Published: November 1, 2015
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Christine's list of resolutions contains many clichés. Try something new. Buy a pair of heels. Get a promotion. Fall in love.
Seems simple, especially when Christine meets Patrick, the man who could be Mr. Right. He's got the right credentials: a job, a sense of humor, a love of all things Indiana Jones, and best of all, he's actually taller than Christine. But busy schedules take over and gets in the way of Patrick and Christine's budding romance.
Life interferes, as it has a way of doing, and Christine wants to throw in the towel. Is the magic of the Christmas season enough to renew Christine's faith in love?
**GIVEAWAY**
November
2- A Southern Girls
Bookshelf – Excerpt
November
2 – Love Chick Lit – Review &
Excerpt
November
3 – Hey Said Renee – Review &
Excerpt
November
4 – Change the Word – Q&A
November
5 – Living Life With Joy –
Q&A & Excerpt
November
6 – Chick Lit Goddess – Q&A
& Excerpt
November
6 – Jersey Girl Book
Reviews – Review & Excerpt
November
6 – Books and Wine – Q&A
& Excerpt
November
6 – Basically Books –
Excerpt
November
6 – Granny Loves to Read –
Review & Excerpt
November
6 – The Phantom
Paragrapher – Review
November
6 – A British Bookworm – Excerpt
November
6 – CDYess Writes – Excerpt
November
6 – Caroline Fardig – Excerpt
Excerpt
About Kathryn
Excerpt
Me and four kids under four feet tall. I feel even more like a giant than I normally do.
And sadly, most of them are better skiers than I am.
After ninety minutes, I've learned to pizza and french fry enough to stop and start. The most challenging thing for me is to stand up once I've fallen down.
Wait, check that. The most challenging thing is the damn J-hook bar contraption that drags me up the bunny hill. You can't sit. You can't stand. You hang in a weird crouch, praying your skis don't hit a rut knocking your ass over tea kettle into the other tow-ees, toppling them like bowling pins. Not that this happens. Okay, yes, it totally happens.
In a heap, one ski pointing one way, one ski lost, I'm pretty sure this skiing thing is not for me. And if I can figure out how to stand up, I'm going to go in the lodge and have a hot toddy. Or ten. And hope that this day passes quickly.
It's just I don't have a lot of free time. I work crazy hours. Free weekends are a rarity and to waste one on something I hate seems frivolous.
Maybe I'll read while I'm in the lodge. That's something on my list. To read three books this year. I've been trying to read the same book for about two years now. I never get through more than a page or two at a time, and anytime I get a large chunk of time to read, I have to start again because I can't remember what I've read.
This is what I'm thinking about, lying in a heap, snow creeping down into my snow pants.
"You need a hand?"
I look up through my goggles to see another begoggled face leaning down over me. The face emits a voice with a deep timbre, which makes my belly twist a little bit. A thick-gloved hand extends and I grasp it. With apparent ease, he hauls me up to a standing position. I still only have one ski on. Not saying a word, he retrieves my ski and guides my boot back into the binding.
"Better?" His smile shows a row of white teeth. Just one looks crooked. It's probably a good thing, though. Otherwise, I have a feeling he'd be too perfect. The best part—he's looking down on me. Do you know how often the guys I meet are my height or shorter? I swear there's a shortage of tall men out there.
"No. I'm still out here, making a fool out of myself."
"I take it this is your first time."
"Is it that obvious I'm a virgin?"
He lifts his goggles up, eyebrows raised. The bemused expression in his light green eyes highlights my faux pas. "Oh really? I didn't know we were getting this personal."
"Oh my God!" My mitten-covered hand, white with snow, flies to my mouth. Which, of course, results in me getting a face full of snow. "That's um, not, crap. I'm not a virgin-virgin. I meant a skiing virgin. I have lots of experience with the other. Well, not lots. I mean, I'm not loose or anything. Oh crap, I should just stop talking."
"No, keep talking. It's quite amusing."
"I'm going to go bury myself in a snow bank right now. Thanks for the help. It's been nice knowing you."
FYI, it's impossible to storm off in a dignified manner when you're wearing skis.
Telling stories of resilient women,
Kathryn R. Biel hails from upstate New York and is a spouse and mother of two
wonderful and energetic kids. In between being Chief Home Officer and Director
of Child Development of the Biel household, she works as a school-based
physical therapist. She attended Boston University and received her Doctorate
in Physical Therapy from The Sage Colleges. After years of writing countless
letters of medical necessity for wheelchairs, finding increasingly creative
ways to encourage the government and insurance companies to fund her clients'
needs, and writing entertaining annual Christmas letters, she decided to take a
shot at writing the kind of novel that she likes to read. Her musings and rants
can be found on her personal blog, Biel Blather. She is the author of Good
Intentions (2013), Hold Her Down (2014), I'm Still Here (2014), Jump, Jive,
and Wail (2015), and Killing Me
Softly (2015).
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