{"id":220,"date":"2008-07-08T08:52:47","date_gmt":"2008-07-08T13:52:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=220"},"modified":"2008-07-08T08:52:47","modified_gmt":"2008-07-08T13:52:47","slug":"love-starts-with-elle-by-rachel-hauck","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=220","title":{"rendered":"Love Starts With Elle by Rachel Hauck"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It is time to play a Wild Card<\/span>!<\/strong> <\/span>Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a>. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his\/her book’s FIRST chapter!<\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n
\n

Rachel Hauck<\/a><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n

and her book:<\/h3>\n

Love Starts with Elle<\/a><\/h2>\n

Thomas Nelson (July 8, 2008)<\/strong><\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/h3>\n

\"\"<\/a>Rachel Hauck is a graduate of Ohio State University, and is a former software trainer. She published her first novel in 2004. Rachel lives in central Florida with her husband, Tony, a youth pastor.<\/p>\n

Some of Rachel’s other books are:
\nSweet Caroline<\/a>
\nDiva Nash Vegas<\/a>
\nLost In Nash Vegas<\/a><\/p>\n

Visit her at her website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $14.99
\nPaperback: 320 pages
\nPublisher: Thomas Nelson (July 8, 2008)
\nLanguage: English
\nISBN-10: 1595543384
\nISBN-13: 978-1595543387<\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
\nChapter One<\/p>\n

BEAUFORT, SC
\nDecember 21<\/p>\n

From the loft of her Bay Street art gallery, Elle Garvey leaned against the waist-high wall, admiring GG Galley\u2019s \u201cArt in Christmas\u201d show. Visitors and patrons\u2014some Beaufort residence, others curious tourists\u2014milled among the displays, speaking in low tones, sipping hot cider.<\/p>\n

The mellow voice of Andy Williams serenaded them. \u201cIt\u2019s the most wonderful time of the year . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cElle,are you the queen,surveying her kingdom?\u201d Arlene Coulter gazed up from the bottom of the loft stairs, her bright red Christmas suit its own fashion work of art.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, and are you my loyal servant?\u201d<\/p>\n

Arlene curtsied,her bottle-blonde hair falling forward like silky angel hair, the hem of her skirt sliding up her knee. \u201cYours and yours alone, O you of whom Art News wrote, \u2018One of the lowcountry\u2019s finest galleries.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBest hundred-dollar bribe I ever spent.\u201d Elle descended the stairs, catching sight of her baby sister, Julianne, selling a bronze sculpture to a young woman wearing pearls.<\/p>\n

\u201cDarling\u201d\u2014Arlene linked arms with Elle and led her to the back wall\u2014\u201cyour artist eye is truly God gifted. Tell me now . . . is this the work of the great Alyssa Porter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is.\u201d Elle surveyed the paintings. They spoke to her each time she viewed them. She envied Alyssa and artists like her\u2014the ones who had the courage to chase the dream.<\/p>\n

Elle had lost hers a long time ago.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what do you like about this artist?\u201d Arlene squeezed Elle\u2019s arm tighter.<\/p>\n

\u201cHer paintings move me.\u201d Elle freed herself from Arlene and moved to Alyssa\u2019s Rose Garden, convinced it\u2019d be a masterpiece one day.<\/p>\n

\u201cMove you?\u201d Arlene studied one of the abstracts through a one-eyed slit, her short, red-tipped fingers squeezing the point of her chin. \u201cI suppose they move me too. I\u2019m just not sure where.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re looking for a definite image, Arlene. Don\u2019t be so concrete. Let your imagination run …\u201d Elle hooked her arm around the woman\u2019s shoulders. \u201cFollow my hand. See how you just moved out of the sunlight into the shade?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but, girl, I really love your bracelets. Where\u2019d you get those?\u201d Arlene grabbed Elle\u2019s wrist to study the tricolor bangles.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou beat all, Arlene.\u201d Elle twisted her hand free.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,a good set of bracelets is hard to find.\u201d Arlene gazed again at the painting. \u201cSo, what should I do about Miss Porter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBuyher.The New York art scene has discovered Alyssa and if you don\u2019t purchase something before her first auction, you\u2019ll never be able to afford it. Here…\u201d Elle walked to the other side of the display. \u201cThis one on the bottom right is only two thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n

Arlene stood an inch way from the bottom painting,tipping her head to one side. The track lighting haloed the back of her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m afraid if I buy one of these I\u2019ll wake up one night with the dang thing hanging over my head whispering,\u2018I see dead people.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf it does, call Pastor O\u2019Neal, not me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Arlene bent in half as if she hung upside down, then snapped upright. \u201cWhat about this artist over here. Coco Nelson. Now this I get. Look\u2014a woman\u2019s face, with eyes and hair.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCoco\u2019s a wonderful artist,\u201d Elle said. \u201cVery realistic work. This series is called \u2018Love and Romance.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery fitting for you, sugar.\u201d Arlene arched a brow at Elle.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis piece, Proposal, is stunning.\u201d Her voice rose and fell into a
\nsing-song.<\/p>\n

Elle ignore her subtle teasing. \u201cYes, there\u2019s something about it.
\nAn ordinary gentleman down on one knee proposing to an ordinary
\nwoman.\u201d<\/p>\n

But the emotion Coco evoked in the scene was anything but ordinary. When she\u2019d sent in the piece, Elle couldn\u2019t hang it at first. Too embarrassed after last year\u2019s Operation Wedding Day fiasco when she tried to date every available bachelor in Beaufort. She wanted no reminders of love and romance.<\/p>\n

Until Jeremiah Franklin.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d Arlene spun around. \u201cI\u2019ll take the Alyssa Porter and this Coco Nelson.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou won\u2019t regret it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSays who?\u201d Arlene passed Alyssa\u2019s abstract piece again, sidestepping the image as if it might spring to life and spar with her.<\/p>\n

Elle laughed, leading the way to her desk across the old, former hardware store. She treasured the talented, sometimes whacky, interior designer who landed lowcountry clients like doctors, lawyers, and hotel developers. In the early days of GG Gallery, business from Coulter Designs had helped keep the gallery lights burning and
\nElle\u2019s hopes alive.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the damage?\u201d Arlene flashed her checkbook.<\/p>\n

\u201cHold on, now, let me add a few more zeroes.\u201d Elle jammed her finger on the adding machine\u2019s Zero button.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdd all you want. I\u2019m only writing three.\u201d Arlene fanned her face with her opened checkbook. \u201cSo, how\u2019s it going with the good pastor?\u201d<\/p>\n

The mere hint of Dr. Jeremiah Franklin made Elle feel bubbly. \u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf the glow on your cheeks is any indication, I\u2019d say it\u2019s more than good. How long y\u2019all been together now? Few months?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwo.\u201d Elle wrote up Arlene\u2019s order with a ten-percent discount.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd it\u2019s love?\u201d Arlene leaned to see Elle\u2019s eyes. \u201cDon\u2019t tell me it ain\u2019t \u2019cause I can see it written all over your face.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHere.\u201d Elle laughed low, passing over the order ticket with the total circled. \u201cI appreciate your business\u2014and nosiness\u2014Arlene.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAny time, sugar. Any time.\u201d Arlene peeked at the total, then started to write.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, babe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeremiah.<\/p>\n

He still took her breath away after two months. When he\u2019d told her he loved her in the setting sunlight during a beach walk, Elle had handed him her heart on a silver\u2014no, gold\u2014platter. Key included.<\/p>\n

\u201cJer, what are you doing here?\u201d She met him on the other side of her desk and stepped into his arms. His fragrance awakened her yearnings.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m on my way to rehearse tomorrow\u2019s sermon. Couldn\u2019t pass the gallery without stopping in for a minute.\u201d His kiss was soft and sweet, a pastorly display of public affection. But enough to make Elle glad to be a woman. His woman. \u201cWe\u2019re still on for dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbsolutely. You still haven\u2019t said where you wanted to go.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeremiah\u2019s hazel wink teased her. \u201cPatience, girl. Do you have to know everything?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you not know me after these few months?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExactly . . .\u201d He stooped for another soft kiss and backed away. \u201cGood to see you, Arlene.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou too, Dr. Franklin.\u201d Arlene watched Jeremiah exit the building with a wave. \u201cHmm-um, Elle, it must be breaking your heart.\u201d Rippp. She handed over her check.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? What are you talking about?\u201d Elle brushed the check absently between her fingers.<\/p>\n

Arlene gaped at Elle with an \u201cUm, what now?\u201d expression, then punched the air with a darn-it fist, chewing her bottom lip. \u201cMe and my mouth. Shoot fire, my Dirk will kill me.\u201d She clutched her buttercolored Dooney & Burke to her chest. \u201cJust forget I said anything, Elle. I am so sorry.\u201d She whirled around and hurried away with aswirling, swing-swing of her hips. \u201cSee you in church.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh no you don\u2019t.\u201d Arlene\u2019s diverse network of informants was infamous\u2014a mixture of truth and town lore, and eerily accurate. Elle scurried after her, blocking her before she reached the door. \u201cYou can\u2019t drop a bomb like that then wiggle out of here with a \u2018see you in church.\u2019 What were you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFirst of all, I have a very natural swing to my hips. It\u2019s what caught Dirk\u2019s eye in the first place, mind you. As for the other, well, Elle, Jeremiah can tell you himself. Don\u2019t worry. It\u2019s good, I think.\u201d She squared her red-jacketed shoulders. \u201cLike I said, see you in church.\u201d<\/p>\n

Elle watched her go, thoughts racing. Jeremiah had just been here. He\u2019d acted perfect, like always. What was Arlene talking about? This time her information network must have supplied the wrong details. What did you hear, Arlene Coulter?<\/p>\n

\u201cElle, Mrs. Beisner is curious about a discount for buying three pieces.\u201d Julianne held out an order pad, tapping the total. During art show openings and art fairs, Elle\u2019s baby sister worked part time for GG Gallery. \u201cWhat do you think, fifteen percent?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Elle raked her hair with her fingers. \u201cWhatever she wants.\u201d<\/p>\n

Julianne observed her sister through narrowed eyes. \u201cWhatever she wants? Elle, are you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d Elle walked around Jules to her desk and opened the bottom drawer where her handbag lived. \u201cCan you watch the gallery for me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTo uncover a rumor.\u201d She didn\u2019t feel like waiting until dinner to hear his news\u2014if there was any news.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow?\u201d Julianne called after her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t be long.\u201d But the front door was blocked by Huckleberry Johns and his fish tank of eco art. Oh, please, not tonight. \u201cHuck, what are you doing? You\u2019re dripping muddy water all over my clean floor.\u201d<\/p>\n

With a lopsided grin, he scanned the gallery, vying for attention. \u201cI call it Death at Coffin Creek.\u201d He raised his composition of reeking pluff mud and marsh grass. \u201cDevelopers are ruining our ecosystem.\u201d<\/p>\n

Elle dropped her shoulders in fake defeat. \u201cHuckleberry, you are too good-looking and too young to be so weird.\u201d She grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. \u201cOut. You\u2019re stinking up the place. Julianne, we need a mop up here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Huck was an art school dropout\u2014or, rather, they\u2019d dropped him\u2014and he hit the sidewalk, protesting, \u201cI deserve to be heard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot in my gallery.\u201d Elle stepped out after him. \u201cRight message, wrong venue, Huck.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSnob.\u201d<\/p>\n

Elle\u2019s smile broke. \u201cSlob. Talk about it later?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt may be too late.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor who? You or Coffin Creek?\u201d Elle backed up the sidewalk in the direction of her car.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou.\u201d Huck hollered between his wide grin, spinning off in the opposite direction, disappearing around the corner.<\/p>\n

Elle held the sanctuary door so it closed quietly without squeaking or thudding. She paused for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, then spotted Jeremiah up front, striding across the stage as he rehearsed his sermon, his lips moving in silent recitation.<\/p>\n

His movement was graceful and controlled, an extension of his inner being.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe can preach up a storm, that one.\u201d A slight, round-shouldered, snowy-haired Miss Anna Carlisle emerged from one of the sanctuary\u2019s dark pockets, jabbing her finger toward Jeremiah.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen we should bring our umbrellas tomorrow,\u201d Elle said, giving Miss Anna\u2019s shoulders a hug.<\/p>\n

\u201cBest to be prepared, I suppose.\u201d Miss Anna\u2019s pushed open the sanctuary door. \u201cI\u2019m praying for that boy,\u201d she said with a wag of her finger. \u201cAnd you.\u201d Her words were intentional and steady.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor me?\u201d Elle asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Elle regarded her for a moment. \u201cAre you walking? Can I give you a ride?\u201d Elle went with the older woman through the foyer to the outer doors.<\/p>\n

\u201cI do believe it\u2019s a fine, crisp evening for walking.\u201d She buttoned the top button of her blue sweater and buried her hands in the frayed pockets. Elle thought the garment\u2019s spacious weave would do little against the night\u2019s chill. \u201cGood night, Elle.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you sure you want to walk, Miss Anna?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

Elle watched her until she disappeared between the trees and night lights. Then, back inside, she slipped into the back pew and watched Jeremiah practice his message. She\u2019d never met a man like him\u2014one who breathed in confidence and exhaled all doubt.<\/p>\n

Her emotions tugged between the man she knew and Arlene\u2019s slipup. What\u2019s going on, Jeremiah? If anything?<\/p>\n

Even for a Saturday-night sermon rehearsal, Jeremiah wore gray slacks and a starched cotton button-down. For the hundredth time, Elle wondered how he\u2019d survived three years in the National Football League, three years of Bible college, and seven years of full-time ministry single.<\/p>\n

But she wasn\u2019t complaining. God had saved the best for her.<\/p>\n

Under the low stage lights, Jeremiah paused as if waiting for a response. He acted out a laugh, making his way to center stage with an even gait. At the podium, he gripped the sides and leaned toward the empty sanctuary, bobbing his head to the beat of internal words. Can I get an \u201cAmen,\u201d somebody?<\/p>\n

Why not oblige? \u201cAmen.\u201d Elle rose from the pew as Jeremiah squinted beyond the spotlights into the shadowy sanctuary.<\/p>\n

\u201cElle, babe? Is that you?\u201d He came off the stage with a touchdown power stride. \u201cIs everything all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, fine, but\u201d\u2014she met him in the middle of the aisle\u2014\u201cI heard a rumor.\u201d<\/p>\n

He growled, teasing her. \u201cIs that ever good?\u201d He touched his lips to hers with the passion that came when they were alone. \u201cWhat kind of rumor?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSomething about you and my breaking heart, Jeremiah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd who delivered such almost horrifying news?\u201d He locked his arms around her waist, his hazel eyes searching hers.<\/p>\n

\u201cArlene Coulter, though she stopped herself when she saw I didn\u2019t know what she was talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe heard from her husband, one of our trusty elders?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho else?\u201d Elle broke her gaze from Jeremiah\u2019s, smoothing her hand over the crisp surface of his shirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d think the man would know better after twenty-five years of marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what should I know after two months of dating?\u201d<\/p>\n

He brushed her hair away from her shoulder, letting his fingertips graze her skin. \u201cCan it wait for dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

His touch was fiery to her. \u201cYou tell me. Can it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre we answering questions with questions?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre we?\u201d Some time in the past week they\u2019d started this new back-and-forth questions-with-questions dance.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid I start this, or you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoes it matter?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly if we want to get off this ride.\u201d He pressed his lips to hers again, breathing deep.<\/p>\n

His kisses defied all bad news.<\/p>\n

\u201cTell you what.\u201d He held up his wrist to see his watch in the stage light. \u201cI\u2019m almost done here. Another thirty minutes. What time does the gallery close?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan Julianne close up for you? We\u2019ll slip off to dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I pay her.\u201d Elle brushed her hand down the sleeve his oxford shirt. \u201cThat girl\u2019s all about moh-ney.\u201d She eyed him. \u201cMonet. Mo-net . . . Get it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I get it. Artist jokes. So, meet me here in thirty?\u201d He walked backward to the stage. \u201cRemember, I love you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s up, Dr. Franklin? If I have to remember . . .\u201d She caught the high and low contours of his face as he stood under the lights. \u201cNot a good sign.\u201d<\/p>\n

His smile dried up the beginnings of her self-pity. \u201cJust remember, Elle.\u201d<\/p>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/h3>\n

To see what I thought about Love Starts With Elle<\/a>, please read my previous post for July 2.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his\/her book’s FIRST chapter! You never know when […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-220","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/220","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=220"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/220\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=220"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=220"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=220"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}