"Pebbles in a Shell", a story of loss and recovery, hope and love, is a contemporary romance, which will appeal to a wide range of women readers who are searching for well written, happy-ever-after books for mature women readers. Today’s woman acknowledges that happiness isn’t just for the very young, and that starting over, regardless of age, can be a wonderful, spirit lifting experience.
Whiskey Creek Press
Everything Bonnie Keeler believes about life and marriage changes the day she discovers her husband’s infidelity. Not only has he broken their wedding vows, but he blames her romance writing and shames her into giving up her passion – creating stories of mystery and romance; always with happily-ever-after endings.
Leaving everything behind, she travels to Cape Cod, where she can wallow in self pity and drown her sorrows in the ocean.
Two things interfere with Bonnie’s self-imposed solitude—the ghost in her rental house who is protective of her and Robert Garrett, a soft-spoken bookseller, who quietly infiltrates her life and helps her re-discover her self-worth. Can she trust her heart again to find the laughter and love missing in her life? Is the ghost trying to tell her it’s never too late to live happily ever after?
I had no sooner taken a picture than a wave came, gently swishing the pebbles in the shell even as it slid towards shore. In a heartbeat, the water receded, taking with it some of the pebbles but depositing others in their place. I watched, fascinated at this moment in nature that was so much larger than the actual picture I had just taken.
The pebbles of my life, I thought. My mom and dad, gone now for too many years, but in their places were my children, lighting up my life with their adventures, their laughter, and their joys. And on the very next wave they too were gone, washed away to new lives with new partners and they’ll never return, not to this same shell on this same beach. Not to the way things were, because no matter how the shell was turned, no matter how deeply it was cupped, it couldn’t withstand the ever-changing tides.
Every pebble in that shell was part of me; some so microscopic as to be nothing more than bits of sand, like the baby I lost almost before I knew I was pregnant. Not one single pebble was like another, either in size, shape or color, and yet each represented part of my life; each had made a momentary stop to fill my heart with wonder and my soul with happiness for having known them.
The tide was changing; larger waves swept to the shore. For a while the shell held steady in the sand, drifting only slightly with the wash of water and the bubbles surrounding it, but always there once the water slid away. And always gently cradling the pebbles that had managed to remain within.
As I watched, it occurred to me all the things that shell represented – me, family, faith. The shell had once been half of a whole and home to a life before it was broken apart and now rested on the beach alone. Yet even alone, it still gathered pebbles that drifted by. Some stayed quite a while; others came and went on each wave. But always there was room for more.
Could I let the ocean wash away all the hurt and disappointment; the anger of betrayal? Without realizing it, was that why I had come to the beach this summer? Could I let myself be open again so that I could experience all that life had to offer, gathering those new people and experiences; those new emotions and cupping them gently in my hands so they stayed awhile?
How much more enjoyable it was to watch the pebbles wash about in the cup of the shell, than to watch the rocks tumble onto the shore only to be washed back into the ocean, lost before anyone had the chance to see their beauty and to experience them just being here.