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Blown Together

By Janet W. Ferguson


When love storms in…
Wealth manager Sam Conrad is accustomed to his domineering father ordering him around, especially at the bank where they both work. But when his father demands that Sam manage the inheritance of his bossy ex-fiancée, Sam has finally had enough. He leaves in search of a new life, and attorney Big Roy Bosarge from Mobile, Alabama agrees to mentor Sam on his quest for direction. Sam didn’t expect to be thrown together with Big Roy’s eccentric and opinionated daughter.

Storm damage forces lonely romance writer Elinor Bosarge and her hairless cat, Mr. Darcy, out of her Fort Morgan Beach cottage. She plans to take refuge in the boathouse on her parents’ estate, but finds the place already occupied by one of her father’s “projects.” She’s shocked her father would allow another young man onto the property after his last mentee robbed her family and broke her heart. And from the moment she meets Sam Conrad, they disagree about everything from her cat to how to best renovate a local nursing home.

Between her mother’s health issues and the hurricane brewing in the Gulf, Elinor feels like her life is being ripped apart. It doesn’t help that she’s falling for the man she’s determined not to trust. Sam finds himself drawn to Elinor, wanting to help her and this new family he’s grown to love. But can he overcome the barrier she’s built to keep him out? When the storm rages and the two of them are blown together, can Elinor find the faith to open her heart again?

Book Takeaway:

We have a heavenly Father who knows the number of hairs on our head and holds us lovingly in the palm of His hand. He won’t fail us.

Why the author wrote this book:

I wanted to write something funny after writing Tackling the Fields, and I have these nice friends, Lisa Cantrell and Cindi Latson, who started asking me to go with them on “girls’ beach trips” to Fort Morgan. Bless them forever for that kindness. This story grew in my mind on the Fort Morgan beach as a storm blew in—a lonely writer who was the queen of bad dates. That was the fun part.

As I began writing Elinor’s story, the Memory Oaks Assisted Living portion of the story materialized. I realized that I was writing through part of my grief of losing my parents. My mother, like Miss Zula in the story, was a brilliant, sweet woman who was ravaged by the nightmare that is Alzheimer’s. My father died only two months after his wife of 60 plus years at the age of 94. He had no short-term memory most of the time like Brother Hammill in the story. But every day after he asked how old he was, he said the good Lord had been good to him, letting him live that long. He also loved singing “How Great Thou Art” and eating cookies any time. Almost all the time. How I miss those great people. I’m dedicating this book to my daughter Mary Kristen who took such good care of her grandparents during those last years.


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