Authors: Pat Simmons
Tags: #inspirational romance, #christian romance, #africanamerican romance, #homelessness in america, #redemption and forgiveness
Redeeming Heart
This faith based story was great, containing all the
elements to keep you reading. It was very well written and it could
be a story that anyone of us could go thru. I love the scriptures
you placed, and the history behind the characters with insight on
matriarchs. Pat, you definitely know how to tell a story! Great
job!
—Melody Vernor-Bartel on
In Defense of
Love
Wow! Oh My!!! Whoooweeeee! I absolutely cried
throughout this story of two people who found love through the
Grace of God. Despite Garrett and Shari's doubts about finding
love, their faith and trust in God showed them that if they allow
Him to order their steps and follow His voice there is nothing that
He will withhold from them. This is a beautiful testimony of the
faithfulness of God.
—Jacqueline White on
In Defense of Love
I love a good underdog story. #teamlandon.
—Mia Harris on
Redeeming Heart
~~~
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2015 Pat Simmons
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. References to real events,
organizations, and places are used in a fictional context. Any
resemblances to actual people, living or dead are entirely
coincidental.
To read more books by this author, please visit
www.patsimmons.net
.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment
only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
If you would like to share this book with another person, please
purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading
this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your
use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and
purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of
this author.
Published by:
Generation Press
Paperback ISBN-13: 978-0692434406
Paperback ISBN-10: 0692434402
The Guilty series
Book I:
Guilty of Love
Book II:
Not Guilty of Love
Book III:
Still Guilty
The Guilty Parties series
Book I
: The Acquittal
Book II
: The Confession
The Jamieson Legacy
Book I
: Guilty by Association
Book II
: The Guilt Trip
Book III
: Free from Guilt
The Carmen Sisters
Book I
: No Easy Catch
Book II:
In Defense of Love
Redeeming Heart
Book III:
Driven to Be Loved
Love at the Crossroads
Book I
: Stopping Traffic
Book II
: A Baby for Christmas
Book III
: The Keepsake
Book IV:
What God Has
for Me
Making Love Work Anthology
Book I:
Love at Work
Book II:
Words of Love
Book III:
A Mother’s Love
Single titles
Crowning Glory
Talk to Me
Her Dress (novella)
Holiday titles
Love for the Holidays
(Three Christian novellas)
A Christian Christmas
A Christian Easter
A Christian Father’s Day
A Woman After David’s Heart (Valentine’s Day)
Christmas Greetings
Dedicated to the LOST SHEEP
Welcome Home
Luke 15:1-7
I praise the Lord Jesus Christ for allowing me to
write this story for His glory.
A special shout out to Lisa McKnight of Rhema
Services LLC and Angella “AJ” Miller, my good friend, for their
insight into the real estate business; and my cousin, Darlene
Simmons, who has had my back since we met through our genealogy
research.
I appreciate my husband’s patience while I’m in my
writing world. I am truly blessed to have Kerry Simmons as a mate
for 30 plus years. Thank you honey!
A many thanks to my pastor, Bishop James A. Johnson,
1
st
Lady Juana Johnson, family and friends who continue
to bless me with their support.
A good book is only as good as good editors: thanks
Chandra Sparks Splond and EditorNancy/Fiveer.com.
Other Christian Titles Include
What was that?
Octavia Winston’s heart constricted as she
strained her ears and inhaled. After counting to ten, she exhaled,
but she dared not move. As a real estate agent, Octavia was
familiar with the mood of a house—its quietness as well as its
subtle growing pains. Occupied homes had different vibes from that
of a vacant house.
The University City neighborhood was a
crossover from St. Louis city to the county. Affectionately called
“The Loop” because of its proximity to the elite Washington
University, it was known for its thriving nightlife, but in spite
of that, this block and adjacent ones had witnessed decades of
families come and go. This two-story, three-bedroom brick structure
was the latest casualty and now possibly a crime scene. The
possible victim: twenty-nine-year-old Octavia Winston.
Lord Jesus, please protect me.
Octavia
swallowed. She had no escape route in this “lower level”—the
preferred term she and her associates liked to use when referring
to basements.
Get a grip, girl!
Who cares about semantics
in a time of danger?
What was she thinking when she came in for a
quick inspection, leaving her phone and purse secure in a locked
car while she was trapped in an unsecured house? She scanned the
meticulous area for a stick, brick, or any object that actor
Macaulay Culkin of the
Home Alone
movies would think of to
rig as a weapon. The windows were large enough to peep in or out,
but not wide enough for an escape.
Octavia felt trapped as her heart pumped
faster. Her skin felt clammy. All she had was her car key, which
could gouge out her assailant’s eyes. She scrunched up her face at
the thought of such a gory scene. Her shoes! Single and living
alone, Octavia could fashion a makeshift hammer out of anything.
Stilettos had their benefits.
She heard a squeak—time was a wastin’. She
had to get past the intruder, out the door and to her car; then she
could call the police. “Jesus, I don’t know who is upstairs, but
please make me a David to whatever Goliath awaits me.”
Releasing a deep breath, Octavia gathered
momentum like a plane revving up its engines for takeoff. She
quietly tiptoed to the base of the steps. Lifting her short skirt
even higher, she hiked two steps at a time upstairs toward freedom.
As Octavia made it to the landing, she barreled into
something—someone—
somebody
who had suddenly appeared out of
nowhere. With her adrenaline still charged, she tackled him like a
defensive football player. The impact seemed to startle the
intruder.
Good.
She took the element of surprise to her
advantage.
She scrambled to her feet, but tripped. When
her assailant got to his feet, Octavia took off, charging ahead,
refusing to look back as she opened the door. Outside, she gulped
for air, but kept running. Where were the nosey neighbors when she
needed them? She had no witnesses in broad daylight to hear her
cries for help.
She scurried across the sidewalk, deactivated
her car alarm, jumped into her Taurus and locked the doors. Octavia
fumbled with her keys until the right one made contact with the
ignition. Steering with one hand, she drove off as she reached for
her cell phone on the passenger seat. She used her voice-activation
to call the police.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
She started rambling, “I’m a real estate
agent and…just come quick. It’s a big one. He’s in the house—”
“Are you still in the house, ma’am?” the
female dispatcher queried.
“No. I got away, thank God. I knocked him
down, but he kept coming after me—”
“What’s the address?”
Octavia could hear the woman pecking on the
keyboard as she gave her the information.
“The police are on their way. Stay on the
line—”
Too late. Octavia did the opposite and
disconnected. She dictated a text to her friend Terri Mack, another
agent and broker she worked under: S.O.S. Man in house. Got out.
Called 9-1-1.
Pulling over, she took a deep breath to calm
her nerves. In the years she had shown houses, this had never
happened to her. The city neighborhood was stable with black
middle-class homeowners who took pride in their properties. Even
though this particular listing was on a nice street, the protocol
for all agents was to lock up after each showing. It was her
agency’s listing, so who had breached security?
She peeked down at her stocking, which had a
run in it, and she’d broken a nail from a fresh manicure. Plus, her
shoulder was throbbing as a result of the tackle. The fear that
held her captive dissipated as defiance surged to the top with a
vengeance. Making a sharp U-turn, Octavia raced back to the scene
of the crime. Whoever the intruder was, she owed him payback, and
watching him get arrested would give her sweet satisfaction.
Landon Thomas gritted his teeth and cursed. He had
blown his cover. Landon’s survival skills as a squanderer were
seriously in need of a refresher’s course. At six-two, and about
two hundred pounds, how could the little fireball who crashed into
him temporarily knock the wind out of him?
Granted, he wasn’t as buff as he had been
since leaving Boston six months ago, but at the least, the woman
should have bounced off whatever muscle he had maintained.
Dismissing his wounded pride, Landon had to
get out of there. He couldn’t risk jail time for various reasons,
mainly because he enjoyed freedom. Not only could he not pay for
bond, but he wasn’t in good graces with anyone who would gladly
help him out. He gathered his belongings—the remains of his mass of
wealth that he possessed when he began his journey. The prestige
and the pampered life he once had back East were gone. It wasn’t as
if he hadn’t put up a fight to hold on to the remnants of his past
lifestyle—from creditors and fellow vagabonds.
