Hanukkah Hearts Page 6

  **THE END**

  Watch for a new series of three Jewish romances, coming in winter 2020.

  Keep going for a sneak peek of Unpredictable Love.

  Books by Jean C. Joachim

  ECHOES OF THE HEART

  HEATHER & MIKE: THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

  SANDY & RAFE: SECOND PLACE HEART

  LIZ & NICK: NO REGRETS

  PAIGE & BILL: ONE FINE DAY

  ANTHOLOGY

  HOCKEY

  THE FINAL SLAPSHOT

  BOTTOM OF THE NINTH

  DAN ALEXANDER, PITCHER

  MATT JACKSON, CATCHER

  JAKE LAWRENCE, THIRD BASEMAN

  NAT OWEN, FIRST BASE

  BOBBY HERNANDEZ, SECOND BASE

  SKIP QUINCY, SHORT STOP

  EXTRA INNINGS

  FIRST & TEN SERIES

  GRIFF MONTGOMERY, QUARTERBACK

  BUDDY CARRUTHERS, WIDE RECEIVER

  PETE SEBASTIAN, COACH

  DEVON DRAKE, CORNERBACK

  SLY “BULLHORN” BRODSKY, OFFENSIVE LINE

  AL “TRUNK” MAHONEY, DEFENSIVE LINE

  HARLEY BRENNAN, RUNNING BACK

  OVERTIME, THE FINAL TOUCHDOWN

  A KING’S CHRISTMAS

  THE MANHATTAN DINNER CLUB

  RESCUE MY HEART

  SEDUCING HIS HEART

  SHINE YOUR LOVE ON ME

  TO LOVE OR NOT TO LOVE

  HOLLYWOOD HEARTS SERIES

  IF I LOVED YOU

  RED CARPET ROMANCE

  MEMORIES OF LOVE

  MOVIE LOVERS

  LOVE’S LAST CHANCE

  LOVERS & LIARS

  His Leading Lady (Series Starter)

  NOW AND FOREVER SERIES

  NOW AND FOREVER 1, A LOVE STORY

  NOW AND FOREVER 2, THE BOOK OF DANNY

  NOW AND FOREVER 3, BLIND LOVE

  NOW AND FOREVER 4, THE RENOVATED HEART

  NOW AND FOREVER 5, LOVE’S JOURNEY

  NOW AND FOREVER, CALLIE’S STORY (prequel)

  MOONLIGHT SERIES

  SUNNY DAYS, MOONLIT NIGHTS

  APRIL’S KISS IN THE MOONLIGHT

  UNDER THE MIDNIGHT MOON

  MOONLIGHT & ROSES (prequel)

  LOST & FOUND SERIES

  LOVE, LOST AND FOUND

  DANGEROUS LOVE, LOST AND FOUND

  NEW YORK NIGHTS NOVELS

  THE MARRIAGE LIST

  THE LOVE LIST

  THE DATING LIST

  PINE GROVE SERIES

  UNPREDICTABLE LOVE

  BREAK MY HEART

  RENOVATING THE BILLIONAIRE

  YOU BELONG TO ME

  JUST ONE KISS

  REWRITE THE STARS

  SHORT STORIES

  SWEET LOVE REMEMBERED

  TUFFER’S CHRISTMAS WISH

  THE HOUSE-SITTER’S CHRISTMAS

  HANUKKAH’S HEARTS

  About the Author

  Jean Joachim is an award-winning, USA Today best-selling romance author whose books have hit the Amazon Top 100 list in the U.S. and abroad since 2012. She writes sports romance, small town romance, big city romance, and romantic suspense.

  Jean has over 50 books in ebook, print and audio. She writes fulltime, never far from her secret stash of black licorice. An avid bird and dog fan, she has a fondness for chickadees and pugs. A music lover, especially classical, she’s married, has two grown sons and lives in New York City. She’d love to hear from you, email her at: sunnydaysbook@gmail.com

  Find her books on her website: http://www.jeanjoachimbooks.com

  Excerpt from

  Unpredictable Love

  Chapter One

  JORY WALKER PLUCKED three letters from the mailbox in front of the house. Two bills and one envelope addressed to her that looked like it had been through a war. It had, according to what was scratched in the upper corner.

  SSGT. T. Stevens

  Anger bubbled up inside her. She made a beeline for the house, only to collide with her sister.

  “Amber! What the hell?” She waved the envelope in the young woman’s face.

  “I just sent him one letter.”

  “This is the fourth you’ve gotten from him. When are you going to write back?”

  “It was a mistake...”

  “You can say that again. Especially the part where you signed my name!”

  “Laura was so convincing. I thought she meant one time. Only one letter.”

  “She asked people to sign up to write to guys in the military. Not to write only one letter and include a lewd photo.”

  “It wasn’t lewd, whatever that means. Just me in a bikini. I’m not good at writing. Much better at pictures.” Her beautiful, blonde sister, with a Miss America figure, grinned.

  “And the reason you signed my name?”

  “I always liked yours better. Besides, if he wanted another letter, I knew you’d write it for me. So, it might as well have your name on it.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit smile. I’m on to you. And the answer is ‘no.’” Jory shoved the envelope from T. Stevens into Amber’s hand.

  “Please? Pleeeaassseee, Jory. You’re the writer. Not me.”

  “That’s right. You’re the pretty sister, and I’m the smart one.”

  Amber nodded. “I don’t mean it like that. You’re so much better than me.”

  “Than I.”

  “See?”

  “No.”

  Amber’s jaw jutted out. “Okay. Disappoint some poor guy out there fighting a war. Look at his picture. He’s hot, even with a buzz cut. Besides, he might die. Your words could be the last ones he ever sees!”

  “He’s expecting you, not me.”

  “Yeah, the picture. But he’ll never know. He’s in Afghanistan somewhere. Real far away. Just write one or two letters then tell him you got engaged.”

  “What a mean thing to do! Lead him on then dump him with a lie?”

  “You’re not going to marry that creep, Archie?”

  “Hell, no!”

  “Then why do you go out with him?”

  “He beats what’s on TV. Well, most of what’s on TV.”

  “You deserve better.” Amber turned her big blues on her sibling.

  As soon as she ramped up the supportive heat, Jory melted. She always did and knew her little sister was manipulating her. But she was powerless to resist. Ever since their parents had been killed in a car crash fifteen years ago, Jory had taken Amber under her wing.

  She snatched the envelope from Amber’s hand with a snort of disgust and returned to the house. The pretty blonde slid behind the wheel of her car and waved goodbye.

  The two girls had had to leave their home in New York City and move in with their widowed aunt, Nan Edwards. It had been traumatic for the much younger one, but Jory had adjusted well. She loved Pine Grove, a small town on Cedar Lake in upstate New York.

  Amber was a different story. She dreamt of beauty pageants and Hollywood. New York had given birth to those aspirations, with the promise of fame on every corner, from Broadway to Park Avenue. Pine Grove didn’t fit that picture. No one took her seriously, least of all her big sister.

  Jory, thirty-two, wrote for the Pine Grove Independent, the town weekly newspaper. It didn’t pay much, but spending her days in the company of other newshounds stimulated her curiosity. Then, there was the fun stuff—rubbing elbows with the locals. She interviewed the women’s club and covered the softball tournament between the state troopers and the volunteer firemen. She reported the pros and cons of fracking, and kept the community informed.

  Respect came her way as an outgrowth of her work. Jory Walker had the ideal job, but it didn’t keep her warm at night or send shivers through her in the bedroom.

  Amber worked for Beasley’s pharmacy, doing makeovers and hawking makeup for the small store. She didn’t make much money, but had access to tons of new products, which she tested on herself and her family at every opportunity. She loved her job.

  Jory tossed the letter on t
he kitchen table, in front of her aunt, who sat sipping coffee.

  “She’s done it again. Damn it,” Jory said, pouring her second cup.

  Nan glanced at the piece of mail. “Done what?”

  “Roped me in.” Jory added milk and sugar.

  “How?”

  “Remember Laura Dailey’s drive to get pen pals for military guys in Afghanistan?”

  Nan raised her gaze to her niece.

  “We wrote about it in the paper.”

  “Oh, yes. Now I do.”

  “Amber signed up.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “She had no intention of writing more than one letter to this guy, Staff Sergeant T. Stevens.”

  “That’s all? Doesn’t seem too serious.” Nan shrugged.

  “It is when she signs my name.”

  Her aunt sprayed coffee on the table. Her eyes bugged out. “Oh my God! She signed your name?” Nan reached for a paper towel.

  “Yep. Three letters have arrived from this poor, prolific sap, who’s probably wondering why I never answered his first one.” Jory shook her head. “The fourth arrived today.”

  “Maybe he’s nice?”

  “Good try. I’ll answer these then beg off. I’ll make up some excuse. Or maybe tell him I have five arms and two heads. I’ll think of something.” Jory headed for her room and closed the door.

  The small, three-bedroom house was tidy and well organized. A large front porch and back deck gave more space for the women to carve out a few minutes of private time. The big backyard, carpeted with a combination of grass and weeds, had been the host of many a kickball game when Amber was younger. Now, it housed an old gas grill and some white vinyl lawn chairs, purchased on sale and looked it.

  Jory flopped down on her bed. She had picked up the sturdy, handmade, lavender quilt at a yard sale. The covering echoed her favorite colors, with pink and dark purple flowers against green and white.

  She leaned her slim frame back against three pillows and examined the postmarks on each envelope, trying to figure out the order of the letters. She opened the one with the earliest date and pulled out a small photo. Flipping it over, she saw his name neatly printed on the back. Trent Stevens. She smiled at the sexy picture of the Sergeant, stripped to the waist. He wore the short hair of the military, regulation uniform pants, boots, and dog tags, resting against an impressive, if slightly sunburned, chest.

  Obviously, he worked out. Her gaze examined the defined pecs, covered with a smatter of dark hair. His biceps were impressive. A hug from SSGT Stevens would be soul-melting. A slight shiver ran through her. Archie Peabody doesn’t look like that. She hadn’t seen all of Archie, since she had refused to sleep with him. But she had seen him in a bathing suit. The words “pasty” and “flabby” came to mind when she recalled images of him at the Fourth of July celebration on the lake.

  She sighed. Archie worked at the paper that was owned by his father. They mostly talked shop when they went out. Sometimes, he took her to a movie.

  “Archie’s better than nothing,” she’d said a hundred times to her sister and aunt. But she knew they didn’t believe it any more than she did. He was lonely, and so was she. What’s it hurt, having dinner with him?

  She opened Trent’s letter. It was a single page, with small, neat script.

  I gave you all my important intel in my first letter. So this is about other stuff. I like animals. I grew up with a dog and a turtle. Tortoise, really. He was a big guy. Smart, too.

  I like American food mostly, but also Mexican. Out here, I’m getting used to MRE’s. Basically, I’m a steak and potatoes kind of guy. What’s your favorite meal?

  Got to go. Can’t talk about where. You understand. Please write soon.

  I hope you received my last letter. We live for mail delivery.

  Take care,

  Trent

  Jory took a piece of paper from her writing tablet and grabbed a pen. Before she began, she changed her mind, went to her desk, and pulled out a box of pretty, pink notepaper she had received as a gift but never used. She’d had no one to write a letter to before today. After slipping out a sheet, she leaned on a pad and began.