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Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Lasting Love released today

Hi Friends and Roses!
I’m so thrilled to announce the release of Lasting Love today!
It’s an Easter story. Here’s a brief blurb and excerpt and a peek at the trailer!

When Vermont florist Abbey Jordan’s nursery manager quits a few days before Easter, she is left up the proverbial creek without a paddle. But when she places it in God’s hands, she finds lasting love in a garden of roses.
Brady Jones has a daughter to raise, is out of work, and knows more about cultivating roses than anyone in rural Vermont. And when Abbey hires him as the horticultural manager of her floral shop, it seems like the answer to her prayers. But just on the brink of a budding romance, a fire destroys the nursery and buries all hope of love.

An amicable silence hovered between Abbey and
Brady as they walked toward the restaurant hand in
hand. They knew they’d just crossed a major
milestone. The quiet was broken by Abbey’s cell
phone. Annoyed at the interruption, she sighed and
answered. It was one of her employees. “Come quick,
Abbey. It’s the nursery. There’s a fire. It’s spreading
like wildfire. Things look bad. Get here soon.”
When Abbey and Brady reached the nursery, it
was a burning inferno. The glass walls had collapsed
and it was going up in a snarling hiss of smoke and
flames. Firefighters struggled to get the blaze under
control. Police and paramedics had arrived and Eye
Witness News was on the scene, snapping photos.
“Oh my!” Abbey was out of the car the minute it
came to a screeching halt. Her face was as ashen as
the thick clouds of smoke billowing up into the night
sky. Tripping over the gravel and cinders as she
rushed toward the fire chief, she screamed. “What
happened? I’m Abigail Jordan and I own this
nursery. What happened? When I left, everything
was fine. Please tell me nobody was in there!”
“No one was in there,” the fire chief placed a
hand on her shoulder. “Things could be a lot worse.
Dead plants can be replaced. People can’t.”
Riveted with shock as reality filtered through
her, Abbey screamed, “My roses! All my precious
roses. All those hanging baskets of lavender. My
exotic orchids and Easter lilies. Gone, all gone!”
“It’s all right,” Brady folded her into his arms.
“What started it?” Abbey stared at the fire chief.
“How did it start?”
“It’s being investigated. At this time, the cause
is unknown. Could be a gas leak. A neighbor
reported hearing an explosion, and in a few minutes,
your greenhouse went up like a house of cards.”
In less than an hour, the fire was under control,
but all that remained of Abbey’s nursery was a bed
of ash. The floral boutique across the covered bridge
was unharmed but the rest of the damage caused by
the fire was insurmountable.
“Do you have any idea how long it took me to
choose and cultivate each of my prize roses?” Abbey
finally let the tears roll. Leaning on Brady, she
sobbed in between hysterics. “My Lasting Love rose,
demolished. And to think I’ll never smell the spicy
aroma of my Sentimental rose again. And at prom
time, I never had enough of the Falling in Love rose.
They all wanted a corsage made of the pink roses,
timeless and romantic. And not to forget the Arctic
Flame rose, popular for keeping the romance alive.
All my hard work, up in smoke.”
“Ms. Jordan,” the fire chief interrupted. “We
know the cause of the fire. It was caused by a
recently installed heating table. Some of the cable
wiring possibly touched each other due to improper
Abbey shoved Brady away and stared at him,
her eyes glinting with anger. “It was you. You said
you knew how to install the heating table and I
listened to you. You ruined my dream. Get away
from me.”
“Abbey,” he tried to reach her. “There’s gotta be
some mistake. Let me—”
“There was a mistake all right,” Abbey hissed.
“Hiring you and trusting you with my roses. Get out
of here and never come back. I never want to see you
On Easter morning, Abbey pulled up to her
floral shop, her heart heavy with grief. Feeling as if
she had the weight of the world on her shoulders,
she crossed the bridge to where her garden nursery
had been. Even before she got there, the thick scent
of smoke lingered, a pungent reminder of what had
happened the night before.
She wanted the world to stop spinning. How
could Brady have been so careless? How could she
have been stupid enough to trust him? Somewhere
deep in her subconscious, she knew she should have
had an electrician install the heating table. So why
hadn’t she listened? Because she’d been attracted to
him and had been well on her way to falling in love
with him. She recalled how infatuated she’d been
only yesterday when she watched him touch the
roses with such tenderness. And the kiss they’d
shared last night. Tears spilled down her face at the
She kicked her foot in the rubble and screamed
at the top of her lungs. Sobs ripped through her until
she couldn’t breathe. On Easter morning of all
mornings, a time of rebirth and resurrection.
Hurling herself on the bed of ashes where her
nursery had been, she kicked and screamed, not
caring if the world came crashing down on top of her.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she looked up and
An old man with flowing white hair stood over
her, his gnarled body stiff and bent. He poked at her
with his walking stick. “Get up, girlie,” he
commanded. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Who are you?” Abbey stood up and backed
away. Other than the birds, there was no one
around. She reached for her cell phone, only to
remember it was in her purse in the car. Her heart
pounded with adrenaline. “Who are you and where
did you come from?”
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”
Abbey started across the bridge. She wanted to
get far away from this nut. Who was he?

Available now!
Book Trailer:

Sharon Donovan
Romantic Suspense with a Twist of Faith

Lasting Love
An Easter story

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