Inspired by Gerrit van Honthorst’s masterpiece, The Adoration
of the Child, and the novel Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.
Italy,
1620.
Angelo
is an orphan, lonely and forgotten. Having been passed on from one family to
the next, he ends up as a common thief, subject to and under the thumb of a
ruthless robber called Tozzo.
Angelo
knows no other life and has lost hope that any chance of providence will ever
replace his lonely, misfortunate existence. When he loses his master, his
livelihood is shaken. Tozzo’s plunder is hidden in a safe place, but what will
happen if someone comes after Angelo to get their hands on the stolen relics?
More than that, he feels threatened by words he’s heard too many times; that
he’ll always remain unforgiven and doomed.
One
day, a priest invites Angelo to help with chores around the church and rectory
and, in exchange, offers him room and board. Padre Benedetto’s kindness and
respect are unfamiliar and confusing, but Angelo’s safety is still a grave
concern. Two older robbers have heard rumors about the hidden treasures and
will stop at nothing to attain them.
With
literary depictions and imagery, Angelo’s story is a gripping and emotional
journey of faint hope and truth in seventeenth-century Italy—an artistic and
audacious tale that crosses paths with art collector Vincenzo Giustiniani and
the powerful Medici family.
Using
invisible threads, Heidi Eljarbo weaves together her fictional stories with
historical figures and real events.
This
title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.
HEIDI
ELJARBO grew up in a home full of books, artwork, and happy creativity. She is
the author of historical novels filled with courage, hope, mystery, adventure,
and sweet romance during challenging times. She’s been named a master of dual
timelines and often writes about strong-willed women of past centuries.
After
living in Canada, six US states, Japan, Switzerland, and Austria, Heidi now
calls Norway home. She lives with her husband on a charming island and enjoys
walking in any kind of weather, hugging her grandchildren, and has a passion
for art and history.
Her
family’s chosen retreat is a mountain cabin, where they hike in the summer and
ski the vast white terrain during winter.
Heidi’s
favorites are her family, God's beautiful nature, and the word whimsical.
“The plot has its twists and turns to keep
readers intrigued…to the very end. A great comfort read that will
soothe the spirit with renewed hope and faith.” Readers’ Favorite five-star review
A HISTORICAL NOVEL OF
FINDING HEALING AND A SECOND CHANCE AT LOVE
In the early 1900s, quiet
and reserved Molly Lund finds refuge from her past at the Nelsons’ farm in Minnesota. In an attempt to turn a new
page in her life, Molly works at making peace with her losses and coming to
terms with the disfiguring burns on her face.
Samuel Woodson, the
Nelsons’ hired hand,
carries his own cares. Split from his family and bearing a burden of misplaced
guilt for an act that haunts him, Samuel–seeing past
Molly’s scars–draws her out of her self-protective shell.
Molly and Samuel form a
friendship, but just as their hearts lead them deeper, an unexpected guest
comes calling, demanding what’s his.
Will Molly and Samuel find
a way to be together or will they be separated, due to impediments beyond their
control? Can they trust in God’s plan and travel a path that heals the hurts of the past?
Readers of historical
fiction, Christian historical fiction, and Christian historical romance will
delight in this beautifully wrought story of the healing power of love.
“A heartwarming story of healing from external
and internal scars. Through some of life’s harder lessons the characters learn to trust, forgive, and find second
chances out of the ashes of pain and loss.”
Anne Perreault, author
of eighteen inspirational novels, including the Yellowstone series
Trigger Warnings:
Grief, trauma from burns, accidental death, time in an insane asylum
Mabel appears out of nowhere, a huge
smile on her face. “Samuel!
Just the person we need.” She wipes her hands on her ever-present apron. “You
have a guest, a visitor.”
She waits expectantly.
“Wh-who?”
I stutter out.
I can’t imagine who could have come calling
for me. No one I know from home knows where I am. At least, I don’t
think they do. Sitting on the bench, I yank my boots off and peel off my coat.
Mabel’s eyes twinkle in the lamplight as she
leans against the door jam. “You’ll
never guess.”
I shake my head and shrug, waiting for
her to tell me.
“Your
mother. Isn’t
that nice? I bet you’ve missed each other. And there’s
nothing like being with family for the holidays. Thanksgiving will be upon us
before we know it.”
Her words fade as one thought fills my
mind: Mother is here. It’s been months, but I’m
not ready to talk to her yet and definitely not ready to forgive her, or myself
for that matter.
“Samuel?”
Mabel places a light hand on my shoulder. “I
thought you’d
be pleased.”
Her lovely features wrinkle.
I shake my head, slow and purposeful. “Didn’t
Linc tell you?”
She lowers her voice and one brow. “Tell
me what?”
Swallowing, I say, “Of
our...difficulties.” I don’t want to reveal too much.
She places one hand over her heart and
pats the back of her head with the other. “Of
course, he mentioned your father’s death and your grief, but…”
We catch each other’s
gaze in the seconds of uncomfortable silence between us.
My mother’s head appears around the corner of
the doorframe to the kitchen. “Samuel?”
She’s changed. Her once prim but happy
smile and flashing, gray eyes only reflect the pain of burying one husband
right after another.
I sit up straight and clear my throat,
grubbing out, “Mother.
I didn’t
expect to see you.”
Forcing myself to look into her eyes,
I hold steady. Out the corner of my vision, Mabel slips back into the kitchen
without a sound.
Mom sighs. “I
gather you didn’t.” She dabs at her nose with the
hankie she's pulled out of her lace-edged, black sleeve and sniffs loudly. She
has always known how to cook up a thick amount of theatrics. “How
could you go off and leave me all alone? I just don’t understand it.”
Mother keeps her eyes cast down in
martyr mode, playing her usual victim card.
Anger brings me to my feet and my
voice rises in volume before I can tamp it down. “How
on God’s
green earth would you expect me to stay?” A stream of ire bursts forth “After
giving the farm away to that money-grubbin’...” I slap my hand on my thigh and step
closer to her until her face is inches from mine and spit out my accusations. “And
to see you preening to him like a peahen before Pa was even cold in the ground.”
She looks up then, eyes hard and icy.
“Shush
your mouth!” she whispers fiercely and glances toward the kitchen, where I
vaguely hear Mabel loudly clinking dishes. “You
should know me better than to think I, in any way, acted improper with Alfred.
We’d
been friends for many years, and he comforted me and supported me when your
father took his turn.”
Grabbing at her black, lace collar,
Mother looks up at me. Her small, thin, drawn face gives me a prick in the
ribs.
She is my mother, after all.
Her skinny index finger presses
against a shirt button on my chest. “And
you with your pointing finger. I might point mine right back at you.”
The old guilt rears its head again. I
swallow, my ears buzz, and a weariness at the same repeated battle with Mother
knocks at my brain.
I brush her finger away and turn. “Mabel’s getting supper on the table. Lincoln
should come in any time.”
We still stand in the entryway,
awkward and opposed, and I have no desire to keep bickering with Mother in
front of Linc and Mabel, much less Molly. I wonder where she is.
Her mouth relaxes and her eyes soften.
“Yes, well. I missed you, Samuel. A
mother wants to see her son.”
“How
did you find me?”
“Paul
Richardson saw you at a dance and mentioned that he had.”
That old schoolmate of mine. Leave it
to Paul, gossip itself and worse than an old lady at a quilting bee. “Ah.
Well, I didn’t
see him.”
“No.
He mentioned that your eyes were fixed…elsewhere.”
Great. That’s all I need: suspicions about a
supposed romance.
Lincoln steps into the house, his gaze
down until he sees us. “Supper
on yet?” He removes his crusty barn cap and nods at Mother. “Excuse
me, Mrs. Woodson...ah, that is, Mrs. Skaggs now; Sam has informed me.” He grins
and extends his hand, then thinks better of it and wipes it on his side. “It’s
been some time since I saw you last. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mother nods her head and offers the
briefest of smiles.
“Thank
you. You’re
looking well, Lincoln.”
Mabel appears around the corner. She
looks to Lincoln.
“There
you are.”
It’s getting much too tight of quarters
for me, and I wedge past Mabel. “We
should make our way in and let Lincoln have room to get his barn things off.”
I motion with my hand toward the
kitchen to Mother. “Yes,
of course,” Mother says, stepping by Mabel as well.
I point out the dining room and head
to the washroom. Her voice comes from behind me. “Samuel.”
I stop but don’t turn. “Yes.”
“I...”
Her voice cracks. “I
don’t
know how to fix what’s broken between us.”
The breath I didn’t know I held fizzles out of me.
“Ya,
me either,” I admit, and I go to wash the last remains of barn smell from my
hands and arms and pray for God’s mercy for the rest of the evening.
Jenny Knipfer
Jenny
lives in Wisconsin with her husband, Ken, and their pet Yorkie, Ruby. She is
also a mom and loves being a grandma. She enjoys many creative pursuits but
finds writing the most fulfilling.
Spending
many years as a librarian in a local public library, Jenny recently switched to
using her skills as a floral designer in a retail flower shop. She is now
retired from work due to disability. Her education background stems from
psychology, music, and cultural missions.
All
of Jenny’s books have
earned five-star reviews from Readers’ Favorite, a book review and award contest company. She holds membership
in the: Midwest Independent Booksellers Association, Wisconsin Writers
Association, Christian Indie Publishing Association, and Independent Book
Publishers Association.
Jenny’s favorite place to relax is by the western
shore of Lake Superior, where her novel series, By The Light of the Moon, is
set.
She
deems a cup of tea and a good book an essential part of every day. When not
writing, Jenny can be found reading, tending to her many houseplants, or
piecing quilt blocks at her sewing machine.
Her
new historical fiction, four-part series entitled, Sheltering Trees, is set in
the area Jenny grew up in, where she currently lives, and places along
Minnesota’s Northern Shore,
where she loves to visit. She is currently writing a four-part novella series
entitled: Botanical Seasons and a three-part fantasy series entitled: Retold
Fairy Tales.
A HISTORICAL NOVEL ABOUT A MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
AND THE SECRET SHAPING THEIR ROCKY RELATIONSHIP
1918:
Just as Robin Holcomb settles into married
life with her husband, Willis, on his aunt and uncle’s farm in Wisconsin, WWI calls Willis away. With an unknown future
and a child on the way, Robin makes the best of life among people she barely
knows.
After the birth of her child, Robin struggles
with depression and battles to overcome her inner demons before despair and
hopelessness drive her to attempt to take her own life. Will Robin survive her
dive into postpartum depression, let alone see Willis again?
1983:
Enid Fenton clears out her Mother’s house and puts the family farm up for sale, trying to not be
consumed by guilt for installing her mother into the county nursing home.
Reading through some of her mother’s diary entries, Enid uncovers a secret that helps her make sense
of the unnamed point of division that has always soured their relationship.
Can Enid reconcile with her mother before the
ravages of Alzheimer’s claim her?
Readers of historical fiction, Christian
historical fiction, literary fiction, and women’s fiction will be moved as this novel takes them from the depths of
a person’s psyche and grief to the pinnacle of long-hoped-for peace.
Praise:
“Knipfer has created a story that crosses many genres and will
appeal to those who love poignant epics about complex characters, engrossing
plots, relatable situations, and a satisfying ending.” Tammy Ruggles for
Readers’
Favorite, five-star review
“A sensitive and well-crafted drama unpacking issues of mental
health, layers of grief, societal expectations, and the instability of memory,
this novel is touching on the surface, but subtly and profoundly layered with
meaning.” Self-Publishing Review ★★★★★
"A heart-rending, emotionally packed love
story between a mother and daughter, Under the Weeping Willow is a journey of
loss and brokenness coupled with forgiveness and healing. This time-split novel
captured my heart and didn't release it until the final page. Beautiful and
haunting, Robin and Enid's story swept me to another era. These characters
lived, and I loved watching them find their way to each other. Keep the tissues
handy. You don't want to miss this story!" ~Candace West, Selah Award
finalist and author of the Valley Creek Redemption series
“Remember the locket I
gave you when we started courting?”
She looked up at him.
“Of course. I have it on now.”
Robin felt for the gold
locket she had slipped under her dress, so it wouldn’t catch on anything while
she helped Marge with supper. It was warm from lying against the skin of her
chest. Robin pulled it out and opened it. Tiny pictures of her and Willis
rested inside. Robin on one side, Willis on the other.
Willis touched her
fingers and covered her hand and the locket with his. “Remember we are part of
one heart now. Nothing can separate us.”
Robin nodded and sniffed. She snapped the locket shut, holding it
tightly. She wanted Willis’s words to be true, but a drumming started in her
head, which sounded like the drums of war. A war which could very well break
their hearts apart.
Jenny lives in Wisconsin
with her husband, Ken, and their pet Yorkie, Ruby. She is also a mom and loves
being a grandma. She enjoys many creative pursuits but finds writing the most
fulfilling.
Spending many years
as a librarian in a local public library, Jenny recently switched to using her
skills as a floral designer in a retail flower shop. She is now retired from
work due to disability. Her educational background stems from psychology, music,
and cultural missions.
All of Jenny’s books have earned five-star reviews from Readers’ Favorite, a book review and award contest company. She holds
membership in the: Midwest Independent Booksellers Association, Wisconsin
Writers Association, Christian Indie Publishing Association, and Independent
Book Publishers Association.
Jenny’s favorite place to relax is by the western shore of Lake Superior,
where her novel series, By The Light of the Moon, is set.
She deems a cup of
tea and a good book an essential part of every day. When not writing, Jenny can
be found reading, tending to her many houseplants, or piecing quilt blocks at
her sewing machine.
Her new historical
fiction, four-part series entitled, Sheltering Trees, is set in the area Jenny
grew up in, where she currently lives, and places along Minnesota’s Northern Shore, where she loves to visit. She is currently
writing a four-part novella series entitled: Botanical Seasons.
Keep current with
Jenny by visiting her website at https://jennyknipfer.com. Ways to connect with
Jenny via social media, newsletters, and various book sites can be found on her
website.
"... a heartfelt
tale of the struggles of married life on a nineteenth-century farm. Edward and
Beryl are both relatable and sympathetic. Knipfer expertly captures the emotion
and stress of their lives and relationship. It’s a touching and realistic portrayal
of love, loss, and friendship." Heather Stockard for Readers’ Favorite
five-star review
A HISTORICAL NOVEL OF
THE PERILS OF NEWLYWED LIFE AND ALL THAT COMES TO DIVIDE LOVERS
In 1897 newly married Beryl
and Edward Massart travel more than one thousand miles from Quebec to farm a
plot of land in Wisconsin that they bought sight-unseen. An almost magical
grove of maples on their property inspires them to dream of a real home built
within the grove, not the tiny log cabin they’ve come to live in.
Misunderstandings and
tempers get the better of them when difficulties and troubles arise. Just
months after they wed, Edward leaves pregnant Beryl in the midst of the coming
winter to tend the farm and animals while he goes to be a teamster at a
northern Wisconsin logging camp.
Will Beryl and Edward walk
into the future together to build their house of dreams in the grove of maples,
or will their plans topple like a house of sticks when the winds of
misunderstanding and disaster strike?
Readers of Christian
historical fiction, Historical fiction, Women’s fiction, and Christian
historical romance will be endeared to this slice of late 19th-century farm
life.
Edward
put his paper down and studied her profile. “I can tell something is wrong,
Beryl. Will you tell me what it is?”
As
much as he thought Beryl a most beautiful woman, he hadn’t thought being
married would be this challenging. This constant wondering what she really
thought of him wore him out.
She
finally turned to him, her lips tucked into a thin line. Her eyes reflected a
pain he could not name. “Am I only allowed something if you say I may?”
The
question caught him off guard. What is she getting at? “I don’t think I
understand,” he voiced.
“Must
I ask your permission for everything?” Beryl set her cup on the end table
between them. She sounded disappointed, hurt. Her eyes softened. “Oh, Edward.”
She sniffed and pulled a hankie out of her sleeve cuff. She dabbed at her nose.
“I’m sorry. I think I’m just overtired.”
Beryl
made to rise from her seat, but Edward held out his arm, blocking her way, his
hand against the rise of her slightly rounded belly.
“Please,
tell me what troubles you.”
He
could feel the well-known frustration rising. Stay calm, he kept telling
himself. After all, he loved his wife. He wanted her to be happy, but it had
become more and more apparent to Edward that she wasn’t.
“You
. . . you said you won’t stand in my way. What did you mean by that?”
Edward
couldn’t help his voice rising in pitch. “What? When? I don’t remember.”
Beryl
didn’t elaborate. “At the Johnsons.”
Edward
thought back through the conversations. They had talked about Beryl going to a
quilting bee. Is that what this pouting is about?
His
voice edged on a shout. “Oh, well, I only meant to say that you’re free to do
what you wish with your time of a Sunday afternoon. Is that wrong?”
Beryl
cringed. “Why are you yelling at me?”
He
let go of her and stood up. “Sometimes, woman, I just don’t understand you.”
He
paced to the far wall and turned back.
She
stood stiff as a poker in the spot he’d left her. “My name . . . is not woman.
It’s Beryl.”
Her
eyes darted—hard and focused—his way, her cheeks red and brow broody.
Darn’d
if she isn’t prettier when she’s angry. It wasn’t the first time he’d
thought so. The image before him almost warranted the trouble.
She
tipped back her head and moved to walk away. Edward crossed the room quickly
and grabbed her arm, twisting her around. She crashed into his chest. Not long
ago they had been in the very same proximity, but now the tension between them
differed.
“Listen
to me and listen good. I’m not your lord or master but your husband.” He
gripped her arms more forcibly. “I would like for you to consult with me on how
your or our days are planned, but I won’t keep you from something you would
like to do. Nor will I command you follow my wishes.” He released his hold and
gently, loosely put his arms around her. “Understand?”
Edward
looked her in the eye.
Beryl
visibly swallowed, rolled her lips, and cleared her voice. “Yes.”
She
didn’t argue or ask him to explain further, which relieved him, but some
inflection in her tone left him doubting her assurance.
What
will it take to make her believe—I love her?
Edward
sighed and tipped his head down to kiss her cheek. She let him.
He
didn’t try for more. “It’s been a long, hard day. Let’s turn in and get some
rest.”
Beryl
gave a slight nod and a giant yawn. He laughed, which made her chuckle. They
both ended up laughing together, but Beryl’s laugh turned into a cry.
Edward
led her over to the bed in the corner of the room, helped her sit down, and
took her boots off. He helped her undress and tucked her under the covers. All
the while, she sniffed. He shed his boots and outer layer of clothes, blew out
the lamp, and settled next to her. Scooting close, he gathered her back to him
and wrapped his arms around her until his hands crested her belly and their
child. He had to make sure she knew.
“Never
doubt again that I love you, Beryl.”
“I . . . I’ll try not to.”
Her sniffing had stopped, and her muscles felt less tense. After a few minutes of listening to their breathing and the crackle
of the fire, Edward felt sleepiness take effect. His eyes closed and opened
several times until, resting his chin at the base of her neck, he let sleep
take him to a more perfect place.
Jenny Knipfer
Jenny lives in Wisconsin
with her husband, Ken, and their pet Yorkie, Ruby. She is also a mom and loves
being a grandma. She enjoys many creative pursuits but finds writing the most
fulfilling.
Spending many years as a
librarian in a local public library, Jenny recently switched to using her
skills as a floral designer in a retail flower shop. She is now retired from
work due to disability. Her education background stems from psychology, music,
and cultural missions.
She holds membership in
the: Midwest Independent Booksellers Association, Wisconsin Writers
Association, Christian Indie Publishing Association, and Independent Book
Publishers Association.
Jenny’s favorite place to
relax is by the western shore of Lake Superior, where her novel series, By
The Light of the Moon, is set. A new historical fiction, four-part
series entitled, Sheltering Trees, will be released in 2021
and 2022. Jenny is currently writing a novella series
entitled, Botanical Seasons.
