Looking out the Window: Carol Award Finalist Erin S. Quint Talks about Her New Book, Sisters Ever After. Giveaway.

 

A Warm Welcome to Erin S. Quint

Erin shares a devotional about God's timing, a theme in her new book, and a nice excerpt. She will give away a print copy or an e-Book of Sisters Ever After to a U.S. resident. To enter to win leave a comment and an email address below and enter the Rafflecopter contest.

God's Timing

For many years of my Christian walk, I thought God answered prayer with either yes or no. Then about ten years ago, I heard a wonderful sermon and learned there is a third possible answer. It’s not “maybe,” it’s wait. 

It’s all about God’s timing. 

Chapter 3 of Ecclesiastes tells us, “There is a time for everything,   and a season for every activity under the heavens” (NIV).

In my own experience, waiting stretches my faith muscles. I am assured that if the answer I’m hoping for is best for me, it will come in God’s time. And if it’s not in His will for me, He will firmly shut that door. Even if I am disappointed, I can have peace knowing that the Master Designer sees the bigger picture and will bring about the best answer at the right time. 

I heard a great object lesson once that illustrates this. We’re watching a parade through a knothole in a fence, seeing only the present frame. God is at the end of the parade, seeing the entire thing from beginning to end.

In Sisters Ever After, the main theme is trusting God’s timing. Gianna seeks answers to the reason for her husband’s recent death. Brock is on the run with his daughter, looking for safety. When Gianna and Brock meet, they begin to unravel the mystery of Gianna’s husband’s death but keep running into walls. Soon, their friendship takes a turn. Both fight the attraction. It’s too soon. What will people think? A threat causes Brock to prepare to flee again. Why can’t they find the answers they need?

But God whispers to both of them, “Trust my timing.” When the still, small Voice speaks to us, we need to stop striving, and know that He is God (Psalm 46:10, NASB) and that He will work all things for good according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). 

Can God work in the hearts of two single parents so their daughters can be Sisters Ever After?

About Sisters Ever After 

Gianna Harper is living on borrowed time. Newly widowed, she’s struggling to hold things together at home and keep her business afloat while dealing with her late husband’s effects. But something’s not right, and now, Gianna is convinced he was involved in something a lot more sinister than questionable business dealings.

Brock Hennessey fled California to make a fresh start in northwestern Montana. He hopes he’s put enough miles between him and danger—banking on a promised job to give his family a new start in a safe place.

Circumstances pit Gianna and Brock against one another, and neither one is willing to give an inch. As their professional dealings grow more acrimonious, their daughters become best friends, and suddenly, the four of them are thrown into situations that have them acting, looking, and sounding like a real family.

But there are hurdles to overcome, and danger threatens. 

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Excerpt:

Brock closed the door and stepped to the counter. A tall, slender woman with raven hair and tired eyes greeted him. “May I help you?”

Brock smiled. “You can if you’re Mrs. Harper. I’m looking for your husband.”

The woman gripped the counter, and her hand turned white. “I’m Mrs. Harper. Who told you to come here?”

“I went to his office, but no one was there. The lady at the insurance agency next door directed me here. All my calls go to voicemail, and he hasn’t returned any of them.”

Her features tightened, and her eyes turned flinty. “May I ask what this is in regard to?”

Brock pulled some papers from his jacket pocket. “He offered me a job. I planned to come … later, but things … my timetable changed, and I’m here now. He said I could come anytime.”

“Look, Mr.—”

“Hennessey, Brock Hennessey.” He held out his hand.

Mrs. Harper’s fingers brushed his before pulling away. “Mr. Hennessey. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but my husband is … he’s deceased.”

“He’s—oh, I’m, I’m so sorry, ma’am.” He swallowed.

“Thank you,” she said curtly. She stepped from behind the counter and turned her attention to a woman and little girl sitting in the corner. “Are you ready, Violet?”

The little girl clapped her hands. “Yes. I love getting my hair cut.”

Brock’s mind swirled with the implications of this tragic development. He tapped Mrs. Harper on the arm. "Excuse me. I … um, look, could we talk?”

“About what?”

“I—” he ran a hand through his hair. “He offered me a job, and I drove here from California and I … I need the work. I can do anything—”

Mrs. Harper straightened. “Mr. Hennessey,” she said, enunciating each syllable, “whatever job my husband offered you is no longer available. Did you not hear me say he is dead?” Her voice shuddered with rage.

“I know, and I am so sorry.” He pulled some papers out of his back pocket, opened them, and pointed. “Here’s my contract.”

“Which is, no doubt, null and void now upon his death.”

Brock’s heart thundered. He was more than a thousand miles from all he had ever known, almost out of resources, and had no idea where to turn. “I need a job.”

“The Burger Barn is always hiring,” she snapped.

He exhaled loudly. “This contract was my lifeline. I’m not willing to walk away.” He tapped the papers. “I want to investigate this to see if I have any legal rights.” He probably didn’t, but he hadn’t read the fine print and needed to buy some time to plan his next steps.

Gianna pointed to the door, willing her hand not to shake. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m asking you to leave. Now.” She pulled out her phone.

Brock held up his hands, palms out. “I’m going.” He didn’t know where he and Piper would sleep tonight, but God would provide.

A blonde woman wearing an apron identical to Mrs. Harper’s slipped an arm around the indignant woman’s shoulder. “Let’s talk,” she murmured and looked at Brock. “We need a minute. You wait right there.”

###

Gianna followed Van into the back room where Paisley sat at the counter, engrossed in her book. Van lowered her voice to a whisper. “This guy could be the answer to your prayers.”

Gianna shook her head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Apparently, he had some kind of deal with Greg. He looks a little desperate, but I’m not getting any weird vibes off him. I think his reaction to the news of Greg’s death was real. He said he could do anything. Why don’t you ask him to stay around and work on the rental properties while you look into his contract?”

Gianna blew a piece of stray hair off her forehead and crossed her arms. “What an awful idea. We don’t know anything about him. What makes you think he could do maintenance work?”

Vanessa looked at her intently. “I have a hunch. With those muscles, he can at least swing a hammer.”

Gianna hadn’t noticed any muscles. “I—I can’t afford to hire someone right now.”

“Maybe you can work something out. Maybe you have something he needs.”

Gianna shot her friend a dark look.

“I didn’t mean … um, sweets.” Van giggled and rubbed Gianna’s arm.

Gianna nibbled at her thumbnail and didn’t respond.

Van threw up her hands. “You have a better idea? Or do you want him hiring an attorney and bringing another monkey into your circus?”

Gianna sighed. With each passing day, another layer of confusion landed on her shoulders. Could this be God’s provision for one of her dilemmas? “I suppose I can talk with him.”

“Stay here, I’ll bring him to you. I’ll finish Henry’s haircut and then do Violet’s trim.” She breezed back into the shop.

Gianna barely had time to pull her jumbled thoughts together when her friend returned with Brock Hennessey, who looked a little wary.

Van took Paisley by the arm. “Come with me, honey,” she ordered, and off they went, leaving Gianna and the man alone.

Silence enveloped them, and his presence filled the room, which until now had always seemed adequate. Gianna took note of him. She was five feet nine in flats but came to his shoulder. He was certainly broad. Van was right about the muscles.

Gianna pulled out a stool at the counter and motioned for him to sit on the other one. She still wasn’t crazy about having this conversation. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Hennessey—”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Call me Brock.”

She ignored the comment. “You believe you had an arrangement with my husband.” Gianna swallowed a frisson of unease. The more she dug into Greg’s business dealings, combined with the details surrounding his accident, and now the missing money, the more unsettling things became. What if this man was connected? Gianna knew nothing about him, or whether she could even trust him.

He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I had a signed deal with Greg Harper.” His words were firm, his gaze was steady, and he didn’t act as if he were trying to hide anything.

“I can’t—” Gianna took a fortifying breath. “It’s only been a month. I have such a legal mess to wade through, and I’m facing more complications every day.” His brown eyes were twin pools of smooth, deep chocolate, and Gianna steeled herself against them. She straightened her spine. “What kind of work were you supposed to do for him?”

“I’m a general contractor.” How did Van know? “But he said he was working on a big land development project and had something special in mind for me. He would share the details once I arrived.”

What? All Greg’s work revolved around property management. “I don’t know anything about land development, but we—I have a lot of rental properties all over the county, and they’re in disarray.” She splayed her hands. “I’m not sure if Greg was managing the maintenance, but no one else seems to be. And some of the homes are coming apart at the seams.” She summed up the most urgent needs.

“You’ll hire me to do this work?”

“I can’t pay you right now, but—”

His eyebrows shot up. “You expect me to work for free? Nothing doing, lady.” He pulled out the purported contract and flipped to the end. “Look. He promised me a ten-thousand-dollar bonus on arrival and a salary. I banked on his word—and on his signature on this legal document.” Brock jammed his finger over what looked like her husband’s signature, stood, then stuffed the papers in his back pocket. “I spent everything I had on the trip. I’ll sleep in my truck tonight and consult an attorney first thing tomorrow morning.”

“No. Stop.” Gianna hated the desperation in her voice. Silence throbbed between them. “You need a place to stay?” He nodded.

She still wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do, but she would trust her instincts. Van was right. No weird vibe surrounded this guy. But serial killers hid their evil intentions too. God, help me.

Gianna reached into her purse and drew out a key. “5810 Helena Valley Road. The tenant left this morning. I haven’t had time to hire a cleaning service, but you can stay there for now. I don’t believe there’s much furniture, but there’s a bed and linens.” Her mind raced. She still had an account at the local grocers. “Charge your groceries to me at the Food Mart, about a mile west on the left. Tell Charlie to call me if he has any questions. You may need some bathroom cleaner.” The former tenant was a bachelor. “Meet me back here tomorrow morning at eight. I’ll give you a list of things to start on, and we’ll go from there.” She looked at him evenly. “I’ll find a way to pay you something.”

“I can’t be here until at least nine o’clock.”

Annoyance bubbled inside. “Calling the shots already? You’re pretty bold.”

Brock sighed softly, and when his eyes met Gianna’s, she saw a hint of despair mirroring her own. He was hiding a secret. What was it?

He swallowed. “I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Brock stepped toward her. “Where I come from, a handshake is as legally binding as a contract.” His gaze held a clear challenge and didn’t flinch as he stuck out his hand.

Gianna drew herself to her full height, lifted her gaze to meet his, and gave his hand a firm, strong shake.

Bio: Erin Stevenson Quint has been writing faith-based romance novels for almost a decade. She is a multi-published member of ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers), where she has served as a judge, category coordinator, and a 2021 Carol Award finalist. 

Erin is recently retired, enjoys traveling with her dog in an RV and looking for inspiration for her novels. She seeks to honor God’s plan for marriage and family through sweet, clean, uplifting fiction. Happy endings guaranteed! 

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