Sunday, September 29, 2013

Sunday Photographs

Here's this week's 365 Project photographs. As always, if you wish to see anything you've missed, visit my Photobucket album.


Day 265, Sunrise
Day 265 photo 500-DSC_8710_zps96773e3d.jpg

Day 266, Sunrise
Day 266 photo 500-DSC_8724_zps05eba82c.jpg

Day 267, Pumpkin Stew*
Day 267 photo 500-DSC_8736_zps7b4fb898.jpg

Day 268, Flower
Day 268 photo 500-DSC_8739_zpsbf5c711a.jpg

Day 269, Pineapple
Day 269 photo 500-DSC_8752_zpsee025a59.jpg

Day 270, Rainy Day
Day 270 photo 500-DSC_8758_zpse6ccf316.jpg

Day 271, Roses
Day 271 photo 500-DSC_8763_zps58bda0ae.jpg

Pumpkin
9/24/2013 Pumpkin photo 500-DSC_8732_zps126d7af0.jpg 

Pumpkin Stew Recipe

1lb smoked sausage, sliced
1 tbl butter
1 tbl oil
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 lb stew meat (beef), cubed
1 1/2 cups chopped onion
2/3 cup chopped celery
5 cups water
1 1/12 cups sliced carrots
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 bay leaf
2 1/2 cups cubed, peeled, fresh pumpkin
2 or 3 cubed red potatoes

Coat the stew meat in flour and brown in melted butter and oil. Saute onions and celery with meat until translucent. Add water, sausage, carrots, thyme, salt, pepper and bay leaf. Cook about one hour or until stew meat falls apart. Mix in pumpkin and potatoes and cook until tender.

Note: I have made this in a crock pot. I lower the water to 3 cups and cook it on low all day. I then transfer the contents to a large soup pot and mix in the pumpkin and potatoes to finish the cooking.

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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Story Saturdays - Go Ahead and Kiss Me

Don't forget to enter the BACK TO SCHOOL YA HOP from Tuseday's blog. You only have from now until Monday! Three great prizes will be awarded!

I made three new book covers this week. Today's excerpt comes from the one entitled, 'GO AHEAD AND KISS ME." In case you were wondering how I come up with book titles, I look for something unique that stands out from the standard romance genre fair. 

I select more than half of the titles before I write the book.




In this scene, the male main character, Eric Spader, is confronted by one of his five older sisters on exactly why he's there.


EXCERPT:

His sister whirled, her skirt flaring outward, and hands suspended, stared at him with an expression he recognized from his youth. He stuffed the cookie he’d stolen from her in his mouth and leaned back on the counter, contentedly chewing.
“Where’d you come from?” she asked. She didn’t wait for an answer, but sent her next question to sister-#2. “Why’s he here?”
“Now, Martha Ann,” Eric said. “Don’t you want to see your baby brother? Sounds like you don’t like me.”
“Do not call me that,” she replied. “If you call me that in front of Cliff, I’ll …”
“I need him alive, Marti,” said his other sister, interrupting her.
“You mean, you asked him to come?”
Eric reclined against the counter on the palms of his hands and flicked his gaze from one to the other. Having five older sisters meant he had five mothers, six if you included their actual mother, seven if he added in Aunt Joyce. It also meant he’d learned how to play one off the other and at the same time, ignore them all.
He waited for Marti to calm down. She was the fourth in age, just older than him by two years at twenty-eight. Carol, the sister who had actually asked him to be there, was thirty-four. They had one sister between her and Marti, Philly, who was thirty, and two older, Angela, at thirty-six, and the eldest, Kathleen, who was thirty-seven.
“I’m hiring him,” Carol said. “I’m catering a birthday party for Janice and Stanley Rose’s daughter, Cherry.”
“Cherry Rose, the cute blonde with the freckles?” he asked.
Slender, outgoing, and dating some guy who drove a luxury car worth fifty grand.
Carol nodded.
“Why do you need him for that?”
Marti was obviously still miffed over the cookie, and probably the last time they were together when he’d made a scene in front of her latest boyfriend, Clifford Summerfield. Cliff was an all right guy, but a little dumb. Marti could do better.
“I need him,” Carol began, “because Mr. Rose specifically asked me for someone who could flirt, and I don’t know a better flirt on the planet.”
Eric crooked a smile.
“He’s so cute I even want to kiss him,” she continued. As if to prove this, she laid one hand on either cheek and smacked him on the mouth.
Eric laughed. He’d always liked Carol the best. “You’re hiring me to flirt?”
Carol smiled. “Think, a room full of twenty-year-olds in party dresses and you circulating amongst them. But you’re supposed to especially pour on the charm for Cherry, his daughter.”
“Isn’t that odd?” he asked. “Why would he want a boy to flirt with her?”
Carol shrugged. “Beats me. We were talking about food and he asked about servers. I said I had several people who I used on occasion. I was thinking of Jennifer and Tammy. But he asked if I knew any eligible males, that he’d rather have one who could flirt, and Eric popped immediately in my head.”
“What’s in it for me?” he asked.
She tilted her head. “Other than you get to practice your skills?”
He nodded.
“I’ll pay you, of course.”
“What’s in it for you?” He turned the question around.
She dropped her hands to her side. “If I do well, he’ll hire me for the big New Year’s bash. That would be a sweet job worth a lot of cash.” She crossed her arms and reclined against the stove. “So will you do it?”
He rolled the idea over in his head. Spend a couple hours in a room full of young girls flirting. A grin split his face.
Marti gave a snort. “You’ve just asked the mouse to live in a cheese factory.”
Eric laughed, then walked over and kissed her cheek. “You know you like me. Us Spader’s have to stick together.”
“Us Spader’s have to get along,” she replied. “You’d better not blow this for her.”
He threw his hands wide. “Tell me when to be there, and I’m in.”


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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Back To School YA Hop



RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY!
Win one of 3 prizes! 
Enter below (Prizes can only be award to residents in the contiguous United States. Giveaway ends 9/30/2013 at 11:59PM.)

Top Prize - ME & TIMOTHY COOPER T-SHIRT (one of 3 designs, available in Male or Female)


2nd Prize - Paperback Copy of LUCAS MCGILLEY
Includes THE LIFE AND TIMES OF LUCAS MCGILLEY and ICHABOD & PENELOPE

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF LUCAS MCGILLEY

The second of eight boys, Lucas McGilley spent his youth pulling pranks. Yet growing up comes hard, and he's learned his lesson. Or so he thinks. Then Iris Willow shows up for the summer, and along comes love, strife, and a terrible family secret. He needs her now, more than he's ever thought possible. But can he convince her to stay, or will she catch the train and be gone forever?


----

ICHABOD & PENELOPE
 
Georgia Davis didn't know the boy standing there, or why moments later when he asked to kiss her she said yes. Kiss a complete stranger? Who does that? Yet the most amazing kiss she's ever had then becomes a first date with an agreement to forget their real names. Really it makes no sense. Except somewhere deep inside, for one evening, it just has to be this way.

He's Ichabod, and she's Penelope.



3rd prize - digital cop of both THE LIFE AND TIMES OF LUCAS MCGILLEY and ICHABOD & PENELOPE (Kindle or epub format)

a Rafflecopter giveaway


VISIT OTHER BLOGS ON THE HOP: 
 


































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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Sunday Photographs

Here's this week's 365 Project photographs. As always, if you wish to see anything you've missed, visit my Photobucket album.

Day 258, Sunrise
Day 258 photo 500-DSC_8618_zpsc91c0e25.jpg

Day 259, Female Eastern Pondhawk consuming a male damselfly still attached to a female damsefly in mating
Day 259 photo 500-DSC_8621_zps421afbef.jpg

Day 260, White M Hairstreak Butterfly
Day 260 photo 500-DSC_8661_zpse635bec1.jpg

Day 261, Chocolate Chip Cookies
Day 261 photo 500-DSC_8670_zps6b671d3f.jpg

Day 262, Wildflower
Day 262 photo 500-DSC_8683_zps183ffa81.jpg

Day 263, Moon
Day 263 photo 500-DSC_8695_zps1371b80e.jpg

Day 264, Society Garlic
Day 264 photo 500-DSC_8703_zps04001b2a.jpg

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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Story Saturdays - And That Was Paradise

First of all, I've had lots of posts this week, so let me extend my gratitude to everyone who reads my blog. You are appreciated.

I've mainly been working on edits. GLASS is completed and ready for release October 1st, and I'm currently reading LIFE & DELIVERANCE (The Florida Irish #2) to send it to my editor in time for release in November.

Available for purchase this week is the Epub version of NEW ~ JERSEY at Barnes & Noble. This story is also available at  Amazon.

You can find all the links to what I have for sale on my blog, including audiobooks. Be sure to check out the latest audiobook - FOR ETERNITY. That is an amazing production you won't want to miss!

Today's excerpt is the beginning of a story entitled AND THAT WAS PARADISE. This story has been rewritten three times so far, but I think I've finally settled on exactly where I want to go with it. In this scene, Lennie Stiles, spots a girl who seems out of place from his usual environment.


EXCERPT:

Taking another sip from his canned soda, Lennie Stiles gazed at the girl across the street, the corner of a frayed paper advertisement on the window partially blocking his view. Head bowed to her chest, pony tail trailing over her shoulder, she stared at what were probably once very nice sneakers. Now, they were grimy and worn, like her blue jeans and t-shirt. The shirt was too large for her by several sizes.
“How long’s she been standing there?” asked Mac Weimer, from his position near Lennie’s right ear.
“An hour, maybe longer.”
Only an hour, but she’d been somewhere before that, some street corner or back alley, not a home, nothing with walls and furniture and food in it.
“Never seen her here before,” Mac continued.
“No.” He hadn’t either. Street people came and went on this road, funneling down to the soup kitchen at the end. But your typical homeless was in his fifties, bearded, and half-soused.
“She’s bugging me,” Lennie said. “I keep thinking of her out there with God-knows-who and how dangerous it is. If that was my sister, I’d hunt high and low to find her. What if … what if somebody’s looking, and I’m the one to see her?”
Mac’s hand landed hard on his shoulder. “Do something then.”
Lennie glanced back into his friend’s well-lined face. He’d worked for Mac over a year now, repairing big rigs. It was hard work, dirty, and often hot with long hours, but he’d learned so much – about life and doing repairs. He turned his gaze back forward and set his empty can on the window ledge beside the orange tabby cat crouched there half-awake.
“Give me another soda,” he said, “and my lunch.”
What was a sandwich to him might be an entire day’s meal to her. If she’d take them from him, maybe he could strike up a conversation.
“Those types are leery, and remember you are male,” Mac said, slipping the items into his hand.
Lennie nodded and pushed through the glass doors and onto the sidewalk, the exit bell sounding inside the office. The girl didn’t seem to notice him, but continued viewing her shoes. He eyed the traffic, dashing across the street to the right of her then angling himself her direction. Not until he’d gotten within six feet did she look up, and the whites of her eyes showed.
She clenched one hand into a fist and reversed herself, pressing her small frame to the graffiti-laden wall behind.
“No, don’t go,” he said. “I just wanted to give you this.” He stopped cold and extended the items in his hand.
She froze, unspeaking.
“It’s a sandwich. Please, take it.”
She eyed the items, her body poised for flight, then brought her gaze to his face.
She had beautiful eyes, brown, a normal color, but so deep and clear, out of place with the slovenly state of the rest of her.
“Please,” he said again, stretching his arm further. “My name’s Lennie.” She made no effort to move, and he sighed. “Here, I’ll set them down and you can come get them.” Placing the sack and can on the ground, he reversed himself several steps.
The girl eyed the food and his position, then dived for both, snatched them, and ran.
Lennie watched her disappear around the corner, a hand squeezing his heart. That had worked. And failed. Because tonight she’d be back out there, sleeping on the cold ground with an assortment of people, one of which might hurt her. One meal wasn’t good enough.
He returned to the office, conscious of the air-conditioning, the cushy chair behind the counter, his car out back. As difficult as his life was right now, at least he had a place to go and a mom who loved him.
What did the girl have? Tonight, a sandwich and a drink.
“You’re back?” Mac asked.
Lennie nodded slowly. “Yeah. She took it and ran. Didn’t even find out her name.”
Mac seated himself on the edge of the counter, which creaked with his weight. “That’s what happens sometimes,” he said. “I’ve tried to befriend more than one homeless person on this road, but usually, they’d rather keep to themselves.”
“She’s only a girl,” Lennie replied. “My age. What if something happens to her?”
Mac’s kind face creased with concern. “Tell you what. Take an hour off and go find her then. I’d start with the abandoned houses on Fifth. If I was a girl wanting to hide out, that’s where I’d go.”
Lennie leaped from his chair and dug his keys from his pocket. “Thanks, Mac,” he called on his way out the door. In his next breath, he whispered a prayer. “Please, God, help me find her.”

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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Grace Awards Summer Launch



VICTORY
DeEtte Beckstead



Victory is the story of a little girl, and the town where she lives. The town of Victory has a history of partiotism, faith, and friendliness. The little girl, Brown Eyes, orphaned when her missionary parents were killed in a fire, lives with her only known relative who does not want the girl. When The Guest comes to town, the people open their hearts and town to him, without knowing who he is or what is motive is. Shortly after his arrival, The Stranger appears, much to the discomfort of The Guest. Slowly, the town loses its freedoms as one of the men takes over little by little. When they have a face to face showdown on the mountain, the life of the child and the future of the town are at stake. Will freedom be a thing of the past? Who will have the Victory?


THE LOST CROWN OF COLONNADE
Kenneth G. Winters

Davey Johnsen is a physically challenged fourteen-year-old from a wealthy community in Connecticut. In a moment he exchanges the comfort of his beautiful home for the rugged terrain of an unknown land. 

There he meets six faithful companions who join him in the perilous journey to reclaim “The Lost Crown of Colonnade.”  One of them is the most beautiful young lady he has ever met, the teenager, Princess Alisande.

Is it all a dream, or are his new friends and the enemies he faces very real? Will this band of seven accomplish their quest, or will they fall victim to the overwhelming forces of the Evil King of Necrus and his Master, Dagron? The answers can only be discovered between the covers of “The Lost Crown of Colonnade.”


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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Steve's Digicams - The Power of a Photograph

My newest article, THE POWER OF A PHOTOGRAPH, is online at Steve's Digicams. Check it out!


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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Sunday Photographs

Here's this week's 365 Project photographs. As always, if you wish to see anything you've missed, visit my Photobucket album.

Day 251, American Flag
Day 251 photo 500-DSC_8505_zpsbce85721.jpg

Day 252, Northern Crescent Butterfly
Day 252 photo 500-DSC_8509_zps83273bac.jpg

Day 253, Water
Day 253 photo 500-DSC_8531_zpsa3dfb9b3.jpg

Day 254, Water Lily
Day 254 photo 500-DSC_8550_zpsf261193d.jpg

Day 255, Sage
Day 255 photo 500-DSC_8562_zpse9ceb6cd.jpg

Day 256, Female Ruby-throat Hummingbird
Day 256 photo 500-DSC_8591_zpsdab7e7b4.jpg

Day 257, Cloud
Day 257 photo 500-DSC_8602_zps8c9a1c0c.jpg

Moon
Moon, 9/14/2013 photo 500-DSC_8610_zpsc68f9170.jpg 

 
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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Story Saturdays - Love After Snowfall

FOR ETERNITY (Time-Travel Romance #1) is now available on audiobook at Audible and will soon appear at itunes and Amazon. This is an amazing production by Sci-Fi Publishers, combining male and female narrators and sound effects. You seriously will not want to miss it.

Also, NEW ~ JERSEY, my latest YA is available for purchase at Amazon. Look for it soon at Barnes & Noble. Only 99 cents!

Today's excerpt comes from a future novella titled, LOVE AFTER SNOWFALL. This is definitely a work in progress, but I'm pleased with the start of it enough to share it with you. In this beginning scene, Clementine Button realizes she's shot a moose and a man.



EXCERPT:

The cathedral-like spires of spruce, pine, and hemlock stood tribute to the season’s first snowfall. Shuffling her feet, the girl glanced back at her snowmobile parked on the trail and her dog waiting patiently at its side.
“No roamin’ around, Timmy,” she said to the dog. “I’ll be back.”
Timmy’s tail wagged, shooting a spray of snow upward with the motion. She returned her gaze forward.
She wound her way between the frosted trees over uneven ground toward the opening she’d spotted from the top of the pass. Half an hour passed before she reached it. There, huffing and puffing, she halted to survey the landscape.
Alaska stretched out before her in its glorious beauty, the natural rise and fall of the mountains miles pressed against a bleached winter sky.
She smiled. She was privileged to be here, to see the last frontier like this. She had Nathan to thank for that because he’d brought her here, shown her how to be self-sufficient. Thought of Nathan made her heart beat painful. She missed him so much.
Stuffing her thoughts back in place, she concentrated on the task at hand. That bull moose had been headed this way, should be here any minute, in fact. She readied her rifle, running one hand down the smooth, oiled barrel, and hooked her finger over the trigger.
The snap and pop of the low brush confirmed her suspicions. Scanning the space, she sighted one eye along the barrel and spotted the telltale antlers bobbing up and down with the beast’s ponderous steps. One shot, that’s all it’d take, and she could make that easy, had done so many times. The moose strolled along, and she tightened her grip, ready, alert.
Her shot rang out between the trees, echoing off the side of the distant mountains, alongside the moose’s squeal. Ecstatic, she tucked the rifle beneath her arm and surged forward. Now came the tedious part, hours of work carving up the carcass, with several trips to retrieve it all. It’d be worth it. She could feed herself the entire winter off this one animal.
She pressed ahead, following the crash of the moose into the distance. But another sound entered her ears – whimpering, thick breathing, and the gasp and grunt of something wounded. Not the moose, for the moose had moved on to die a mile or two away. Her senses awakened, she pushed toward the sound, and stopped solid at the sight, her insides curling into a ball.
A man lay prone on the ground, his leg bent at an awkward angle, his skin as pale as the inescapable ice.

***

“Who are you?” the girl asked.
The man looked upward into the face of an attractive girl with flaming red hair. Out of place in this pristine environment. “Ezekiel Knapp, and I’ll ask the same.” He said this through gritted teeth, pain rippling across him.
“Clementine Button.”
“Clementine?”
She narrowed her gaze. “My grandmother’s name. I hardly think this is the time to question me on it.”
He fell silent. She was angry. But she’d shot him, not the other way around. He raised one palm in surrender just the same.
“You had to go and complicate my life,” she said.
He blinked up at her. Was she serious? “Complicate your life? You shot me!”
She gave a snort. “Shouldn’t have been acting like a moose.”
“Shouldn’t have been …” His anger flared. “Look here, Miss Button. I didn’t even know the moose was there, nor did I think some girl would be standing here prepared to kill it.”
The pain in his leg flared, and he fell back with a moan.
“You’ve complicated it,” she reaffirmed. “Don’t suppose you can explain what you’re doing out here.”
He sucked in a shaky breath. What was her problem? She could see he was injured, so why question him now?
“Trapping.” He forced the word between his lips.
“Trapping?” One eyebrow arched upward. “You must have come quite a ways then. Aren’t any trappers living out here.”
“Ten miles,” he grunted.
“On foot? Gees, you’re dumb.”
He raised his head and glared at her. “I … would say … the same since …” He held in a groan. “Since you can’t aim.”
The curse words that left her mouth were out of place for someone so beautiful. Because despite her anger, she was by far the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. The sun filtered through her hair casting a flame-colored halo around her head.
He collapsed on the snow, his gaze frozen on her face.
She knelt, bringing the vision closer, and ran one hand over his leg. Poking around the bullet wound, her fingers brushed the hole in his pants, then she sat back on her heels. “Ten miles which direction?”
He gestured west.
“I’m not going that way,” she said.
Which meant what? He hadn’t the energy to ask. They were both a long ways away from any medical care, and he couldn’t get out of here without her help, so whatever direction she was going would be where he went as well.
“I have to get you to the snowmobile,” she said. “You can ride in the sled.” She lifted a clump of snow and pressed it to his wound. “Keep that on it. I’m afraid you’re in for a day of it.”
“A day?” he squeaked. He wouldn’t last an hour, much less the rest of the day. At least, it felt that way.
She eyed him. “I have to follow the moose. Not letting the wolves get him.”
Wolves. Thought of their blood-thirsty jaws made his blood chill.
“I’ll take you to my place after. I think I can get the bullet out, but you’ll be off your feet for a few days.”
Days? Weeks, more like it. And unable to fend for himself. Great.
“You got anything needin’ care at your place?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No.”
She stood to her feet. “Just as well, because it would’ve starved.” She rested one hand on her hip. “Where’s your things?”
He sucked in a breath and worked up the energy to respond. “Hundred yards or so,” he said.
She stared down at him, and he was struck again by how pretty she was. What was a girl like that doing out here?
“I can’t tote you,” she continued. “I suggest you say a prayer because you’re gonna have to figure out how to walk.”

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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Here's Whose I Am

You want to know who I am? I'll tell you who I am. I am delivered. I am free. I am fearless

Not because of anything I have done. Left alone, I can't face the next hour, much less the next day. Alone, my flesh is weak, my mind is weaker. Alone, I am consumed.

But I'm not alone because Christ lives in me. (Rm 8:2) In Him, I hold the shield of faith and face the fiery darts of the devil. (Eph 6:16) In Him, I have strength and courage. In Him, I have peace and safety.

He sets my feet in a large place, (Ps 31:8) a green valley, where the waters flow, (Ps 23:2) where prosperity and safety guard me, and there He holds my hand saying, "See, Suzanne, here's what I have for you. Not that over there. Not terror and panic and horror. Not lack and want and dearth. But abundance. Blessing. Favor. Goodness. Sit here with Me and partake." (Ps 110:1)

And so I have. But the story doesn't end with me. This confidence is here for you, too. You only have to take hold of it.

It's not who I am then, but WHOSE I am. For I am His and He is mine.

My book, FEARLESS, is a free Kindle download today and tomorrow (September 11-12, 2013) at Amazon. Please get your copy and share the link with your friends. No one needs to live afraid.


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This song gives my testimony better than almost any other words I could write. I have truly been given something so beautiful.



Beautiful, Beautiful by Francesca Battistelli


Don’t know how it is You looked at me
And saw the person that I could be
Awakening my heart
Breaking through the dark
Suddenly Your grace

(Chorus)
Like sunlight burning at midnight
Making my life something so
Beautiful, beautiful
Mercy reaching to save me
All that I need
You are so
Beautiful, beautiful

Now there’s a joy inside I can’t contain
But even perfect days can end in rain
And though it’s pouring down
I see You through the clouds
Shining on my face

(Chorus)

I have come undone
But I have just begun
Changing by Your grace




 



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Suzanne D. Williams  
Suzanne Williams Photography  
Florida, USA 

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Story Saturdays

This month's FREE BOOK has been selected. For email subscribers only, I will send a download link to a copy of STEELE (Billionaire Boys...