writersprite
Synopsis
Since childhood Sara Little has dreamed of moving to America to study art. But being born of a single mother in London's working class she could only dream. On the anniversary of her mother’s death, Sara meets handsome gallery director Christopher Lake.
From the moment they meet she is drawn to his soft-spoken charm and his passion for art. When he invites her to America as a contracted artist, she throws caution to the wind. But Sara discovers more awaits her in America than the realization of her dreams. Caught in the whirlwind of debut parties and wealthy dinners, she has fallen in love with the one man she believes she cannot have.
Then tragedy strikes and Sara’s future is reduced to ashes. Will she face this new future with courage? Or escape to the life she once knew?
Excerpt
The sweet smile of Christopher Lake brightened her memory, his chuckle and warm and gentle clasp of hand after she signed the contract… so welcoming. She closed her eyes, reliving and relishing the freedom to make such a dangerous decision. She did not understand the feeling of safety she felt when in his presence, nor the willingness to place everything of her private and personal life of art into his keeping. It was no wonder he served as sponsor and advocate to artists of a similar need.
Steps outside her door hurried her to a continuation of her packing. She had so little time before Mr. Lake or his brother, Mr. Donovan, would arrive to retrieve her and her luggage.
“Ach! You have done barely a bit of packing, Sara love.” Beth scolded, her tongue clicking a sisterly rhythm as she joined the orchestration of packing.
“I know. Each thing reminds me of the miracle and I… I run away on the memories.”
Beth wrangled open the non-matching valise and began tucking away those toiletries and necessities for the trip. “It is no wonder, what with all the twists and turns this week. Who could have known the Lord would see fit to dunk you head first into this adventure.”
Giggling, Sara tucked her mother’s Bible and an extra sketchbook into the large steamer trunk. When her hands came upon the large, worn leather portfolio she paused. Her eyes misted. “So many… so many times, Beth, I believed my heart for these images was foolishness. With such a wonderful blessing as the dressmaker’s shop, what else could it be? Who could be blessed by my images when no one wanted to display them? I… I nearly gave up hope.” Sara laid the portfolio safely within the trunk, Beth’s hand gentle upon her shoulder. “But the Lord saw my heart even then, He encouraged me through even that darkness.”
“And look at the morning you have now.”
