The Jewel Series Book 5: Christmas Diamond

Inspired by the Jewel Series and introducing the Virtues and Valor series

Christmas is a time of miracles. Faith Green and TJ Viscolli share the common bond of a love of history and romance blossoms. But an accident during the Christmas Eve air show threatens their hope of a life spent together. Will God provide a Christmas miracle, or will the future look cold and dark like a winter night?

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Olivia Kimbrell Press
EBook ISBN: 978-1-68190-058-2

Christmas Diamond can be purchased in paperback at the following places:

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Ask your local library to order this title:

Olivia Kimbrell Press
ISBN-13: 978-0-615744-92-6
ISBN-10: 0-615744-92-3

The Back Cover:

Inspired by the Jewel Series and introducing the Virtues and Valor series

Faith Green spends her career as a pilot honoring her grandmother’s heroic efforts during World War II. When she’s invited to participate in a Christmas time air show in the Florida Keys, she thinks it will be exciting to fly somewhere warm and sunny instead of her cold and wintery London home. But on her first day, she encounters a lifeless body washed up onto the beach.

TJ Viscolli is the eldest child and only son of a wealthy and powerful corporate mogul but instead of modern business his interests lie in history. Months away from a Ph.D., he has an accident windsurfing at his Key West home. When he is resuscitated by a beautiful women, at first he thinks that a Christmas angel has come to save him.

The couple share the common bond of a love of history and romance blossoms. But an accident during the Christmas Eve air show threatens their hope of a life spent together. Will God provide a Christmas miracle, or will the future look cold and dark like a winter night?

Excerpt from the Book:

Christmas Diamond, a Novella

FAITH Green shifted the bill of the cotton painter’s cap on her head and squinted out at miles and miles of the Florida Keys’ translucent turquoise waters. A bead of sweat rolled down her back and she couldn’t help but cringe at the music emanating from the restaurant’s patio speakers.

O holy night. The stars are brightly shining.

It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth.

She’d thought she’d adore spending Christmas in the Florida Keys. Who knew after landing on Key West less than three hours ago she could miss London’s wet, cold streets as she sat on a lounge chair on a sunny beach and sipped watered-down lemonade while battling the relentless sand and humidity? After the long flight, she felt a little homesick. Even though this was business and the money was top notch, she also regretted the necessity of spending Christmas away from hearth and home.

Trying not to dwell on those thoughts, Faith looked out at the half a dozen or so brightly colored sails soaring over the water. Wind surfing looked like incredible fun to her — standing against a sail while skimming the glassy blue water, letting the sea breeze propel the vessel with amazing speed. She wondered if it was anything like flying her plane, like that feeling of freedom she felt each time she broke above cloud cover and emerged into an entirely different world. As she watched a purple and blue sail skim toward the shore, she contemplated if it would be possible to take some lessons sometime during her two-week stay.

As light as her cotton skirt was, she felt suffocated by the covering as she was so unused to the heat and the humidity. Faith stood and pulled her tank top away from her torso, hoping to let some of the mild breeze in under the fabric. Normally, she wore skirts unless she was in the air. Then she wore a near perfect replica of the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force uniform her grandmother had worn in the early 1940s. The thought of wearing that, even for the coming air show, made her feel even hotter. She would definitely have to invest in some shorts while she was here.

As she slipped her brown sandals from her feet, she let her toes sink into the warm sand of the crystal white beach. It felt surprisingly good beneath her bare feet. Perhaps this was better than the icy wet London streets after all, she thought.

Faith looped the straps of her sandals over one finger while she strolled down to the water’s edge. A wave washed onto shore and she started to back away from it, anticipating a chill like one would feel along the waters of County Durham. But as she looked around at the children splashing in the water, wearing only swimsuits, she let the water touch her, surprised at how warm it felt — almost like a tepid pot of tea.

With a smile, she started strolling down the beach, sticking to the packed wet sand. Christmas lights adorned the palm trees over by docks and dotting the strand. Behind her, the hotels and condominiums sported Christmas trees covered with artificial snow and decorations that spoke of snowflakes. The decor looked strangely incongruous in the eighty degree weather.

Florida. At Christmas. How amazing was this?

Faith walked down the beach taking in the sights and smells and the feel of the lapping surf covering her toes. After just a few minutes, she looked to her right and saw that she’d left the area of the hotel and now meandered along the beach that faced some private residences.

What did it take to live here? she wondered. What kind of people lived or vacationed behind those big stucco walls? Knowing the shoreline was public, she was undaunted by the private property and continued down the strand.

A giggle and simultaneous squeal caught her attention, and she turned her gaze to the back of one of the big houses and its pool and watched as a little red haired girl with wild curly hair hurled herself from a diving board while a bigger teen boy followed. Unable to help but smile at the child’s play, she didn’t pay attention and tripped over the body that had washed onto shore right in front of her bare feet.

She landed hard on her hands, the water washing away as the wave receded. Panicked, she spun back around.

A man about her age lay on the wet sand. His eyes were closed. The skin around his lips looked blue. His skin was a deep dark tan though his face looked pale. A trickle of blood ran down his temple and mingled with his wet black hair.

He wore only a pair of turquoise swim trunks that lay low on his hips and came to the middle of his muscular thighs. She saw a strap with one end wrapped around his ankle and the other end sheared. As she looked up, the windsurf board she assumed had once been fastened to his ankle washed up on shore about twenty yards down the beach.

Faith immediately and automatically patted her pockets before she remembered she didn’t yet have phone service here in America. She dropped to her knees beside him. As she laid her fingers over the artery on his neck, she yelled out. “Help! Please, help!”

Her voice came out strong and clear despite the wind and surf. Her cultured British accent sounded vibrant despite her jet lag and the surge of adrenaline that raced through her blood stream.

She found the man’s pulse, but it was weak. With her right ear close to his mouth, her eyes peered down his torso. She could neither feel nor hear his breath and did not see his chest rising or falling. As she tilted his head back and placed a hand on his forehead, she called again. “Someone, please help!”

She took a deep breath and covered his blue lips with her mouth.

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