Exclusive to Newsletter Subscribers! Petals in The Wind is a standalone beach-read novella. It’s also a Christian Romance. Here’s an excerpt if you’re curious.

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Chapter One:

Prologue:

“Mark Dodson has been the fifth senseless death this month. From Eyewitness News, goodnight.”

Nicole Benson watched the television screen, hoping the reporter would recant her statement. That mentioning her fiancée Mark’s name during the broadcast had been a mistake. She reached for her cell phone on the coffee table and waited for a ‘lol text’ from Mark.

She stood before the reflectiom in the vase, her fingers absently tracing the cross necklace around her neck. The delicate chain was a gift from Mark, given during one of their happier days, and it had always been a source of comfort. But now, the once-familiar weight felt heavy, suffocating even.

She waited for Mark to put his key in the doorknob, on his way back from the gas station, ready to explain the confusion. The phone vibrated, startling her. When she looked, it was a call from her future mother-in-law, Mrs. Dodson. As if the phone burned her skin, she discarded it on the cushion next to her. She remembered that Mrs. Dodson always watched the nightly news at 9 and 10 pm. When she just turned on the TV to see her fiancée’s face flashed across the 10 o’clock news.

Mrs. Dodson was most likely wondering how the news had gotten a picture of her son, just as she was. A shrewd businesswoman who turned her cupcakes into a thriving bakery franchise. She sported an iron will that she passed down to her son. Yes, Mrs. Dodson would want answers. She would call her back when she had them.

Right now, she was seconds away from being a widower, and only one man could dispute that. Only Mark Dodson, of Zoom Accounting fame, could hold her in his arms, and snuggle her neck. All while he joked that she wouldn’t qualify as a widower for another six months. While simultaneously apologizing for the argument they had before he left, renewing his commitment to their wedding date because life without her was unbearable.

The phone vibrated again across the cushions. Her caller-id indicated that it was her mother this time. But she flicked it onto the floor. It made a horrible thud that made her cringe. No one, not her mother or mother-in-law, knew how she felt now. She got up and went to the window and waited to see his headlights in the driveway. She put crutches around her heart and told herself that she didn’t have to bring up the death scare at all. They could debate the merits of new accounting practices, and she would let him win. Besides, he was her family, and outside of her parents, she looked forward to having a family with him. Just the thought made her heart full.

She muted the television as the news was about to discuss the robbery for the second time. Their words were getting to her, and she had to wait for Mark’s return. And she’d greet him with a smile. He had the best flirtatious half-smile, half-smirk. This death scare made her forget all about what they had been arguing about. He just went out to get gas, and she tried to focus on that.

Truthfully, she knew it didn’t take this long to get gas. Still, hope told her that he had gotten caught up in traffic and because he was a witness he stayed to talk to the police. He wasn’t the victim. Instead, he would come home with a list of five more things he wanted to discuss with the wedding planner. She blinked back tears. She wouldn’t be angry, just irritated.

The phone vibrated once more. It was the only sound in the house outside of her unsteady breathing. She stormed over to answer it, furious.

“What is it, mom?!”

“Have you heard from Mark?”

“No, he went out to get gas. He’s not back yet.”

“Sweetie, his mother has been trying to reach you. Oh, baby, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Mark’s gone.”

Nicole hated the pity in her mother’s voice. She wanted to scream at her that she was still waiting for him to come home. But she feared that she would cry instead and not get a word out. Mark would want her to be strong. He hated a quitter. He was going to know that his wife believed in him.

“His mother called me and told me.”

Nicole turned away from the TV and looked at the curtained window. No one believed that he could be CEO of a nationally traded company. Yet Mark proved them wrong and pushed her to do the same. He always worked hard. She had to think the same way and hold on to the truth that he was a fighter.

“Do you want your father and me to come over?”

Nicole sighed heavily, stuttering. “I want. I want…Mark, to call me.”

She was promoted to the HR Department at the same time he made CEO. There was no way she could have accomplished that without him. It was a historic day at the company, but it was like Christmas at their house. It would not be the last time that he would surprise her with his determination. And that was almost two years ago.

A tapping noise on the other end distracted her. It sounded like she was carrying their landline into another room. Her mother said to her father, “You try, she’s not responding to me.”

But it didn’t faze her. Memories of him were worth drowning in. Like Mark surprised her again by how involved he was in the wedding planning. Only engaged for seven months, she was sure that she’d go bald fighting over napkin colors.

“Nicole, listen to me. It’s your father. This is impossible to deal with alone and will be over there as soon as we can. But Mark is gone.”

Nicole blew out a breath and shook her head. “We’re going to laugh about this when Mark returns. Will sue the media for misinformation. He’s only 25. That’s a terrible thing to say about someone in the prime of their life.”

“It is. So, do you think your father would ever tell you if it weren’t true?”

“She didn’t know what to say to him. How could she defend her faith in her fiancée against such exorbitant lies? She thought about dropping the phone and going back to the window. Her parents seemed to be getting increasingly worried and frustrated.

“Fine. Come over. Then when Mark comes home. I’ll be right, and you’ll be wrong,” Nicole said in a firm, quiet voice, her eyes never leaving the doorknob.

“Sweetie, this isn’t healthy,” her mother said softly.

“Will stay on the phone with you until we get there.” Her father chimed in, speaking over each other.

They were forever bestowing upon her their infinite knowledge as their only child. But, when it came to Mark and his habits, they were wholly unprepared. Nicole was stunned that they believed some news report over her. She loved her parents, but they were panicking.

“Nicole, sweetie, I heard this from his mother,” she said quietly.

Nicole contented herself with the truth. “She watches the news. She doesn’t know anything more than that.”

No one understood how she could set her eyes on someone and know instantly that her life was tied to theirs. Even if she couldn’t explain how her life changed for the better from the moment she shared that cab with him. She knew it was going to change again, for the better. She just had to wait, for him to come home.

“I’m pissed off at the news. I was pissed at the state of our city, here in Chicago. I’m angry at the robbers. Saddened for my future-son-in-law, and I hate the way this is making you feel.”

Nicole looked up at the ceiling, trying to listen intently. The implications of her mother’s words slid down her arms like an icy chill.

“And you feel that same way, and you will feel that way a lot longer than me. But now until forever, I’ll always be your security blanket. Don’t shut me out of whatever’s going on in your head.”

Her mother was right. Except she couldn’t get angry. She was just lethargic. A sadness boiled underneath the surface of her skin like a contagious disease. Scratching would relieve some of the aches, but it would only make the wound bigger. Right now, she wanted to curl up on the couch with Mark. And tell him about the nightmare she lived through when for a second, he was dead.

“There are so many things we need to do for the wedding, for life.” Her voice cracked under the weight of unshed tears.

It was hard to miss the warm smile in her mother’s voice. Nicole’s heart leaped out to her as if she were physically drowning. “The life you had with him was beautiful, but it’s not over yet. So many more amazing things are going to happen for you.”

Nicole realized that they were talking about Mark in the past tense. It felt wrong when just yesterday they had decided to honeymoon in Australia. But Nicole knew if she said that he would come home that they would only patronize her. All she could hope for was to wear them down.

“And will both be there for Tracey, your mother-in-law. If she’ll let us,” her mother replied with a weird undertone. Mumbling something to her dad, who had to be driving at this point. “Tracy can be a force.”

Nicole’s eyes widened. “Mark and I are getting married, and she wont always have that kind of control. We already discussed it. He even talked about boundaries with her.” She looked down at her watch, trying to remember if the gas station was usually this busy at this time of night.

Her mother sighed. As if she were the only one who was emotionally drained. “But sweetie, you aren’t married to him yet. Which means the funeral—”

She dropped the phone on the floor and headed into the kitchen, pulling out Mark’s favorite wine from the wine rack. Mostly bought for guests, she uncorked it with all the skill of a bartender at closing time, not even noticing that the only light in the room was from the fridge. She could barely see her fingers in front of her face. But she didn’t bother to lift the bottle to her lips.

Instead, she closed her eyes and whispered a prayer—not one of gratitude, as she used to, but a desperate plea for answers. “Why, God? Why him? Why us?” The words caught in her throat, and she yanked the necklace off, placing it gently on the nightstand. It didn’t feel right to wear it anymore. Faith had once been her anchor, but now it felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of the life she’d never have again.

When she opened them, she looked right into the eyes of her fiancée, he was standing on the other side of the kitchen island as surely as she could feel the wine bottle still in her hand—the light from the refrigerator washing him in a warm, bright glow.

“If you died, your mom would be so mean.” He grinned and watched her keenly. “Don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true. If only arranged marriages were popular in the United States. She would have signed your name next to some heiress when you were two,” Nicole said, giving herself a little chuckle. She leaned on the counter and sighed, “That’s not what we should be talking about. I fought you over so many decisions about crazy things and all I want to say now is that I don’t want to do any of this alone.”

He was wearing the navy blue suit he had on when he got promoted at the office. His hair was glossy, with perfect black waves. Hadn’t he had on a ball cap and jeans when he left the house.

Stunned, she looked down, twirling the wine bottle on the table. “You’re not coming back, are you?”

She looked up, and he was gone. And she was doing nothing more than standing in a darkened kitchen watching her food spoil.

“If there’s a plan, I don’t see it,” she whispered. Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned her back to the light, letting the shadows consume her. She reached up, grasped the cross, and kissed it softly before slipping it off and tucking it into the drawer beside her. “Not tonight,” she muttered, as though the act of faith itself had become too painful to bear.

A knock came at the door, and she screamed, knocking over the opened wine bottle. Expecting it to be her parents, she half-jogged to the door. She was hoping that Mark had lost his keys in the ruckus.

But her world died when she opened the door, and a cop was standing there. The hands-on the clock stopped. Even the next-door neighbor’s yappy dog stopped mid-bark. Everything in the world started to spin, and she grasped the door to no avail. She fell to her knees, in the arms of a stranger. Her breathing constricted until she wasn’t getting enough air into her lungs. Hyperventilating, she clutched at her blouse.

She waited for Mark to come home and he didn’t.

She waited for anyone to tell her that it had all been a mistake, and no one did.

She waited for the despair to pass, and it didn’t.

“Breath,” the officer said, placing his hand on her shoulder like a heavyweight.

But she was only able to see the face of Mark, her beloved, as he smiled and winked at her. She lost the battle of love and death. While she struggled for more air than she needed, hot tears flooded down her cheeks.

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