The Release Date Nears

I just finished the last read-throughs for When Winter Is Past. I think the release day is near, and I'm very excited. In fact, I think the ebook will release within the next week. This is my stand-alone novel set in Pennsylvania in 1739. I lived in Pennsylvania for three summers, besides visiting there several more times. I like to use places I know for the settings of my books.

Here is an excerpt from the beginning of the book that introduces one of the main characters and gives some background:

Stanton Klein sat on the ground beside the grave and leaned his back against a tree. The dampness from the recent rain seeped into him, but he paid it little mind. His eyes were fixed on the grave; yet they saw the past year through the dense fog that surrounded the farm.

It had been a hard year since his Molly had died in childbirth. He had wanted a child more than anything. He needed a son to help him on the farm, carry on his name, and inherit his holdings. The infant girl had died with his wife. It hadn’t even been a boy for all the trouble it’d brought. He’d buried them both in the same grave.

He had waited almost a year, the longest year of his life, but he wanted to show his respect for his deceased wife. Time had frozen that winter, and he hoped he never had to live through another like it. As soon as Molly had been buried and the visitors left, things got as difficult as steerage passage across the Atlantic. After all the initial upheaval, everyone else’s lives went back to normal, but his remained upturned, and, in the quiet, it hit him full force.

He brushed his eyes and blinked. Even at the start of the day, he felt tired. Sleep didn’t visit for long anymore. It remained elusive, something he hunted but could no longer track down. Regardless of how long and hard he worked, he stayed awake at night more often than not.

At twenty-eight years of age, he needed to marry again. A man needed a wife—and a farmer needed one more than most. He needed a son. If he started looking now, maybe he would be able to marry before the busy harvest time arrived. He’d have two or three months until the fields demanded his full attention. If things were delayed, he’d just have to wait until after the harvest, but he was determined to be married before the cold weather set in again. He refused to spend another dismal winter shivering alone.

He’d met Molly in Philadelphia. She’d never fit into farm life as much as he would have liked. She hated all the outdoor chores, but she’d kept a clean house, cooked their meals, sewed their clothes, and did the laundry and other household tasks. They’d gotten along well enough.

       He knew he’d never loved her, but he’d cared for her and grieved at her passing. He had vowed long ago to never love a woman. His father had given his heart away to Stanton’s mother, and when she died in childbirth, his father had withered away and followed her to the grave by his own hand. Stanton never forgave his father for deserting him like that. Why hadn’t his son been enough to live for? No, Stanton never wanted to love like that. He had been ten at the time, and he’d had his grandparents, but that wasn’t the same as having parents.
      He rubbed his itching eyes, and the grave came into clear view again, bringing him back to the present.... 

(All profits from the book will go to a scholarship fund for missionary children)

__________________________________________________________