When Riley Madigan moves to the sleepy mountain town of Miracle Creek, she hopes her new job as a high school art teacher will help her mend her recently broken heart. A little peace and quiet would be a gift this Christmas season. The last thing on her mind is love.
Former firefighter Mark Rivers has spent the last year recovering from burns sustained during a rescue operation. He’s been trying to piece his life back together but still struggles both emotionally and psychologically. When he meets Riley, he finally sees something that might bring some light back into his life.
When Mark asks Riley to work on a special nativity project, he finds himself falling for her quirky, unaffected ways. Riley doesn’t seem bothered by his scars, but is her affection for him real, or is this just another act of charity? One thing’s for certain, in a small town that views Mark as a fragile hero, it’s hard to pursue a relationship without everyone in his business. And although Riley has sincere feelings for Mark, is she ready to risk her heart?
Broken hearts and lives are mended as the town of Miracle Creek comes together to celebrate a Christmas to remember.
Ten Behind-the-scenes Peeks at Creating Miracle Creek Christmas
1) Miracle Creek is a fictional town based on the factual town of Cashmere, Washington and its nearby Icicle Creek and Icicle Creek Bridge. Check it out!
2) I was in bed for most of the duration of writing Miracle Creek Christmas, through two back surgeries leapfrogged by two shoulder surgeries over a 3-year span. So although I live within two hours of Wenatchee Valley, I couldn’t visit to research it myself for some details. Fortunately, I’ve visited the area multiple times since I was a little girl, and I had a couple of friends who live there that I reached out to. And I used Google Maps a lot. And Miracle Creek was born!
3) The Aplets & Cotlets fruit candy factory is a landmark in Cashmere, and the scene where Riley and Mark consider taking the factory tour was edited out. The factory is now closed due to COVID-era economics. 🙁
4) I began writing Miracle Creek Christmas after the 2015 wildfires that raged across Washington State, spreading firefighters so thinly, fighters from neighboring states were called on to help. The Chelan Complex Fire was an actual event, though Mark and Jay’s experience with the boys was fictional.
5) Riley is named after my beautiful niece, Riley Anglesey, who is a freshman this year at BYU.
6) Miracle Creek Christmas was originally titled, “Hold on Forever” after the song by Rob Thomas, who I adore. The song so perfectly expresses the way Riley and Mark come to feel about each other–“Lay down all your troubles end to end, they could reach up to the stars. So many roads, you don’t know where you’ve been, but you still know who you are . . . Just fall apart if you need to. I’m here and I won’t leave you now. Don’t look down. Hold on forever…” Such a great song for these two.
7) I fashioned Cal Rivers after the iconic Mr. Paul Newman. I had so much fun writing the scenes between Mark and his dad! The sass from those boys!
8) The alpine town of Leavenworth is indeed one of my favorite places to visit and the depiction was no exaggeration! I love every painted mural, lederhosen, oom-pah band, bratwurst, and felt cap. And don’t forget the bollen!
9) The character of Gus was fashioned after one of my husband’s best friends. Everyone needs a Gus.
10) Thirty years ago, my husband and I were given an antique Gustav Stickley Craftsman-style rocking chair as a wedding present. And a star was born. I have rocked all my babies in it. Rock on.
BONUS) For several weeks I volunteered to pick up a sweet woman I barely knew from her dialysis appointment because her husband would often travel for work. Her name is Carmen, and she’s become very dear to me. Sometimes authors take a few bits and pieces from people we know or observe to create a new character–like Gus and Cal. But with Carmen, I wrote Carmen. She is her. And I couldn’t even change her name. She is a wonder and an inspiration to me. And fortunately, she was overjoyed and humbled to play a part in this story! A few months before Miracle Creek Christmas was released, Carmen received a successful kidney transplant and no longer has to endure dialysis! She remains a dear angel in my life.
Award-winning author Krista Jensen works and plays in the Pacific Northwest with her little black dog and anyone else who wants to tag along. When she’s not exploring the outdoors, she can likely be found with her laptop, a pretty spiral notebook and Pilot Precise V7, writing about love, triumph, and really great kisses.
Either that or she’s switching laundry wondering who keeps wearing all these clothes.
(It’s her.)
For book info and other good things, follow Krista on Instagram @kristajensenbooks.
She’ll do anything to escape an arranged marriage. He’ll do anything to help her.
Honora Crauford relishes her life in India. So when her father informs her of his latest business transaction—marrying her off to a bankrupt nobleman in England—her only hope for returning home is to convince her betrothed, by whatever antics necessary, that a marriage to her comes at a cost that not even the greatest fortune can justify.
Graham Whitworth can hardly believe his wretched luck. It seems the only way to save his family’s insolvent estate is to comply with his father’s demands and marry the extremely wealthy, but utterly ridiculous, nabob’s daughter. But when Honora missteps, Graham discerns her farce and begins to see who she truly is—a most impressive lady. A lady likely capable of fixing his family’s financial troubles.
Realizing they both desire freedom, Graham and Honora join forces to restore the Whitworth estate and return Honora to her beloved India. But sometimes love has its own agenda, and the revoking of a once undesirable arrangement may just prove to be the greatest sacrifice of all.
“Miss Crauford?” The servant, whose blue livery matched the opulent cloth on the coach’s driving box, approached me.
My palms were clammy within my gloves, and I mindlessly rubbed them against my middle. Did I truly have the tenacity to enact such a preposterous scheme? It wasn’t too late to simply comply with Papa’s demands and marry Lord Denhurst’s son. I wavered between two seemingly detestable options. Then an image of India filled my mind’s eye. If I abandoned my plan now, I would likely never see my home again. Once Papa was in England, he would see me married, just as he said he would. That would not do. No, I needed to convince Lord Denhurst to revoke his offer, thus adhering to Papa’s admonition that I would not make him break his word, and to be on my way home before Papa arrived.
The man stopped when he was still a little way off. “You are Miss Crauford?”
“I will do anything to get home,” I whispered under my breath, rousing my courage. It was now or never, and never was not an acceptable option.
“I should certainly hope so.” I lifted my chin to an arrogant level, acting in complete opposition to Mrs. Purcell’s lessons. “Otherwise I have made a very tedious voyage for nothing.” The man’s dumbfounded expression was proof I had chosen the correct vocal timbre to use—obnoxiously loud and fast with a grating quality that had been perfected in the privacy of my cabin over the last several months. “Have you come to take me to my soon-to-be husband?” I scanned his figure in a blatant appraisal, refusing to consider my own mortification so as not to risk a blush. “Or are you him?”
“Yes, miss,” he said, before realizing his error. “I mean, no.”
“Which is it?” I asked, swiftly closing the distance between us. “I would not mind the latter, for you appear to be a man worth crossing an ocean for, despite your obvious oversight of fashion.”
His gaze whipped to the coachman stationed atop the carriage before he returned it to the ground between us. “No. I’m only the footman. I’ve been sent from Grandview to collect you.” There was utter desperation in his voice.
“Collect me?” I scoffed in feigned offense. “As though I am your master’s possession? What an absurd and utterly infuriating notion. Pray tell me, do all men in England think so little of the female sex or is that a particular view of Lord Denhurst and his son?”
In kindergarten, Jess won a first prize ribbon for her original creation Pigs in Wigs. It was a solid storyline: there was this pig that wore a wig—and it rhymed. Not impressed? Neither were her children when shown the very masterpiece that influenced her to become an author. “You won a ribbon for that?” Yes. Yes, she did. Thankfully, life has since exposed her to a thorough education with its share of awards and accolades—and, more importantly, to the trials and human experiences that form the heart of a storyteller and the substance of great stories. Besides her love of writing, Jess is an avid reader, shameless people observer, international café loiterer, and partially retired photographer. She loves being a mother to five amazing humans and a wife to the greatest man she knows.
Christmas isn’t fashion editor Roxanne Hudson’s style, but when she finds herself snowed in with a handsome stranger, she might just discover the magic of the season after all.
Roxanne Hudson does not like the holidays. They come with too many family obligations that take her away from work as a rising fashion editor in New York City. But this Christmas might be Grandma Myrtle’s last, and Roxanne’s parents want her to spend the holiday at the family cabin in the Green Mountains. With her boyfriend out of the country for a photo shoot, Roxanne decides to brave the long commute—and the wilderness—to spend Christmas in Vermont.
After an uncomfortable call from her boyfriend starts the trip off badly, Roxanne is blindsided by a blizzard on the snowy mountain road, where the last thing she hears before losing consciousness is sleigh bells. When she’s rescued by Mark Foster, a handsome park ranger who’s the exact opposite of everything she always thought she wanted, Roxanne seeks her grandmother’s wisdom and discovers an uncanny connection that could be a sign of what her life is really meant to be.
Myrtle laughed, took a long draw from her cocoa, and set the empty mug on her lap.
“Change is sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always constant, and it doesn’t worry itself with timelines.” The old woman cast a long, thoughtful look out into the night. “If something doesn’t feel right, it’s usually not. You know, when I first met your grandfather, I could have sworn I heard bells, I was so smitten. No rhyme or reason for it, but one look at Jimmy was enough to change the rest of my life.”
“Bells?” Roxanne echoed. She remembered the bells she’d been hearing for the past couple of days. They’d started right at the moment of her accident and ended the moment Mark had walked away. But a few days wasn’t enough time to fall in love with someone, was it? The Roxanne of last week would have said no way, but today’s Roxanne wasn’t so sure. She recalled the way Mark’s lips had felt against hers under the mistletoe in the snow and realized she would be happy if that was the last first kiss she ever had. Maybe there was something to all Mark’s hokum about Christmas magic after all. It sure had made a believer out of her.
“Bells,” Grandma Myrtle confirmed, her voice dropping to a whisper as she fingered her wedding band. “Used to hear them jingling every time he kissed me,” she said with a sad smile. “Jimmy’s been gone for over ten years, and sometimes, when I miss him the most, I think I can still hear them. Especially on nights like tonight.”
“Why tonight?” Roxanne asked.
“Because it’s Christmas.” Myrtle laughed, as if it were obvious. “The season of love—love of the deepest kind.” She motioned at the box in Roxanne’s hand. “Not the kind that can be bought in a store, either. The kind what makes Christmas so magical is in here.”
She placed her hand over Roxanne’s heart.
“You’re a smart lady, Grandma Myrtle,” Roxanne said, reaching up to cover her grandmother’s hand with hers. Myrtle laughed. “Oh, honey, when you get to be my age you can’t help but be smart. You’ve had a whole lot of life to put behind you and learned a lot of lessons along the way. Some are easy, some are hard, but either way, you’re going to learn them, like it or not.”
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.
