Christmas 2011 Trio A. Кейт Хьюит

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      Christmas Trio A

      Angels at Christmas

      Debbie Macomber

      One Snowy

       Regency

       Christmas

      Christine Merrill

       Sarah Mallory

      A Royal Christmas

      Kate Hewitt

      Susan Mallery

      Heidi Betta

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      Angels

      at

      Christmas

      Debbie Macomber

      Make time for friends. Make time for Debbie Macomber.

      CEDAR COVE

      16 Lighthouse Road

      204 Rosewood Lane

      311 Pelican Court

      44 Cranberry Point

      50 Harbor Street

      6 Rainier Drive

      74 Seaside Avenue

      8 Sandpiper Way

      92 Pacific Boulevard

      BLOSSOM STREET

      The Shop on Blossom Street

      A Good Yarn

      Susannah’s Garden

      (previously published as Old Boyfriends) Back on Blossom Street (previously published as Wednesdays at Four) Twenty Wishes Summer on Blossom Street Hannah’s List A Turn in the Road Thursdays at Eight

      Christmas in Seattle

      Falling for Christmas

      A Mother’s Gift

      Merry Christmas, Friends!

      As you’ve probably already guessed, I love Christmas. And I have a special fondness for Christmas angels. After all, it was an angel who came to announce to Mary that she’d be giving birth. And later, when Jesus was born, it was angels who first told the shepherds watching over their flocks.

      Shirley, Goodness and Mercy have proven to be three of my most popular story characters. Since they first appeared back in 1993, they’ve shown up periodically through the years. Last Christmas I was delighted to find huge wire angels strung with lights for sale in a local store. Naturally I purchased three and set them up in our front yard.

      Wouldn’t you know it, soon afterwards we had a snowstorm with blizzard-like conditions. When I woke the next morning, I was dismayed to find my precious angels face down in the snow. My clever husband smiled and said we had three fallen angels. What struck me, however, was that despite the horrific weather conditions, their lights continued to shine.

      This Christmas they’re shining again, my three angels—in our yard and in this two-story edition—and they’re brighter than ever. I hope Shirley, Goodness and Mercy will bring you some Christmas joy and a smile or two. And you can bet that whatever comes their way—and ours—their lights will shine!

      Have a wonderful Christmas. Remember there are angels among us … and sometimes we don’t even know it.

      Merry Christmas!

      Debbie Macomber

      About the Author

      DEBBIE MACOMBER is a number one New York Times bestselling author. Her recent books include 44 Cranberry Point, 50 Harbor Way, 6 Rainier Drive and Hannah’s List. She has become a leading voice in women’s fiction worldwide and her work has appeared on every major bestseller list. There are more than a hundred million copies of her books in print. For more information on Debbie and her books, visit www.DebbieMacomber.com.

      Those Christmas Angels

      In memory of Sandy Canfield,

      talented writer and dear friend.

      And to Charles Canfield with affection and thanks

      for the 38 years of love and support

      he gave Sandy

       One

      Anne Fletcher pulled the last box of Christmas decorations from the closet in the spare bedroom. She loved Christmas—always had and always would, regardless of her circumstances. It was a bit early yet, a few days before Thanksgiving, but some Christmas cheer was exactly what she needed to get her mind off her problems. The grief that had been hounding her since the divorce five years ago … The financial uncertainty she now faced … The betrayal she still felt …

      “No,” she said aloud, refusing to allow herself to step closer to that swamp of regrets. It often happened like this. She’d start thinking about everything she’d lost, and before she knew it, she’d collapse emotionally, drowning in pain.

      Carrying the plastic container down the hallway, she glanced inside her art room and let her gaze drift over to her easel and her latest project. The bold colors of the setting sun against the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean pleased her. Yes, she was divorced, but there’d been compensations, too. Her art had fulfilled her in ways she hadn’t even realized were possible.

      How different her life was at fifty-nine than she would’ve imagined even five years ago—before the divorce. What Burton had done was unforgivable. He’d hurt her, and he’d cheated her out of funds that were rightfully hers.

      Once again she stopped herself, not wanting to indulge those bitter memories and regrets. She’d done plenty of that in the beginning, when she’d first learned he’d found someone else and wanted out of their thirty-year marriage. It was a fling, or so she’d managed to convince herself. A midlife crisis. Lots of men had them. Any day Burton would come to his senses and see what he was doing to her and to Roy, their son.

      Only he hadn’t, and Anne walked out of divorce court numb with shock and disbelief. Not until the judge’s gavel echoed through the room had she fully believed her husband was capable of such treachery. She should’ve known, should’ve been prepared. Burton was a top-notch divorce attorney, a persuasive man who knew all the ploys. But despite everything, she’d trusted him …

      Her friends had been stunned, too—less by Burton’s deception than by Anne’s apparent acceptance of what he’d done to her. It wasn’t in her to fight, to drag her marriage and her life through the courts. Burton had recommended an attorney, whom she’d obediently retained, never suspecting that the man who’d represented her in court would apply to Burton’s law firm as soon as the divorce was final. Of course, he’d been hired …

      Burton had promised to treat her fairly. Because she was convinced that he’d soon recognize what a terrible