When three American women embark on a mission trip to Mamelodi, South Africa, they all have their own selfish reasons for going. One is running from a devastating loss; one is trying desperately to save her career; another is hoping this will be an opportunity to bridge the gap that has separated her from her stepdaughter.

What none of them expect is how profoundly their lives will be changed by the women they meet, women who combat disease and poverty daily yet demonstrate great joy and faith. Each American woman is touched and transformed in a different way, yet they all come together when they discover an opportunity to help the South African women support their families by selling the amazing bead work that has been taught to generations of women in the community.

A story about the power of faith and hope to overcome even the most tragic circumstances, Beaded Hope was inspired by the nonprofit organization of the same name. A portion of the author’s proceeds from the sale of this novel will go to support Beaded Hope.

Reviews

“Character development is strong, and the reader will be deeply touched on an emotional level. The amazing spirit of the women shines through the darkness.”
- TOP PICK!  4 ½ stars, RT Book Reviews

“Fans will cherish this fine tale as characters steal the hearts of the readers.”
- 5 stars, Harriet Klausner

Discussion Questions

Read the Excerpt…

Coming through the airport terminal door, Gabby paused on the sidewalk and squinted into the sun. A stout lady standing next to a young girl caught her eye. The woman’s coral blouse looked stretched to its limits, as did the flared, brightly colored patterned skirt she wore, both a beautiful contrast with her dark skin.

What an unlikely-looking welcoming committee, Gabby thought.

But maybe we look just as odd to them. Three women and a teenager coming from the other side of the world—to do what? Save them? Save South Africa?

If they only knew.

She couldn’t speak for the rest of her group. But didn’t she need someone just as badly to save her from herself?

An adventure seeker at heart, Drew hasn’t been known to stay in one place very long. Not till his brother, Blake, persuades Drew to come to Somersby under false pretenses. Suddenly Drew can’t seem to find his way out of the small town. Apparently his wanderlust heart has developed a one-track-path—straight to the heart of the green-eyed beauty, Molly.

Drew even has an easy solution to Molly’s business problem or so the thinks. It’s too bad Drew knows that if he tries to help Molly he may lose her in the process.

Read the Excerpt…

Chapter One

“Oops!”

Drew Dawson felt the heated splash of tea land on his gray T-shirt at just about the same time he experienced an unexpected rush of pleasure, eyeing the pretty strawberry-blond female who had sloshed it there.

“I’m so sorry…”  Her freckled nose crinkled apologetically, causing her sunglasses to slide.  Greenish eyes stared at him, appearing genuinely contrite.

Caught off guard by the flash of green, he barely noticed the stream of harried travelers pushing to make their way around them.  She had been shuffling in through the airport terminal door at precisely the same moment he had been exiting it.  Now the two of them were clogging the middle of the threshold, frozen there by the spill.

“And it’s Internationale’s Green-Black blend too,” she added, glaring at the styrofoam cup as if it were filled with criminal intent instead of an eye-opening brew.  “It will leave a terrible stain!”

She began searching through her oversized straw purse, he assumed for a tissue of sorts.  Meanwhile, he found himself doing a bit of searching of his own, perusing her face, taking in the scent of her hair.  So natural so…familiar.

Had he met her before?  But where?  When?  True, he’d been to Somersby, Ohio, before, but only for a quick visit in January for his brother Blake’s marriage to Samantha Stevenson.  This was only his second time here, and his plane had just landed.  He hadn’t even gotten out of the airport terminal yet where his brother would be waiting for him at the curb.

He was quite certain he’d never laid eyes on this striking woman before.  Still, her face had a familiar girl-next-door look – all grown up, of course.  It seemed he’d known her forever…

“Truly, it’s not a problem,” he said when she came up empty handed.  “It’s just an old rag.”  He tugged at the shirt.  “Got a dozen like it.  And,” he bent his head to peer at the stained area on his chest, “at least it’s the International Green-Black blend.  Has a rather distinct, robust sound to it.  Not some sissy tea at all, thankfully.”

He gave her the Dawson trademark grin, one side of his mouth curling up teasingly.

The sunny-looking lady laughed.  “You’re British?” she asked, acknowledging his accent.  “You came all the way from England, and I’ve spilled my drink on you first thing off the plane?”

As the words tumbled out of her mouth, a blustery, crimson-cheeked businessman blew past them, his oversized bulky suitcase nearly knocking the tea-drinking beauty over.  Swiftly, Drew caught her elbow and steadied her.  Then, his hand on her arm, he led her to the side of the entrance out of harm’s way.

His composure regained, he shook his head and answered her question.  “Actually, I just flew in from Boston.  So don’t fret, I won’t go complaining to the British embassy about you or anything.”

Again, he gave her the Dawson smile, attempting to charm her for some inexplicable reason.

It worked.  Her creamy cheeks flushed pink and she stammered slightly, “It’s not me exactly.  It’s – it’s these silly sandals.”  She glanced at her feet.  “I keep tripping in them.”

Glancing down her jean skirt, it took his eyes a moment to get past her lightly tan but noticeably shapely legs…past her soft-looking feet with coral-polished toes…before settling on her shoes.  Sandals that made a young woman’s calves look great, but weren’t so easy to walk in with their in-between-the-toe straps and high-wedged cork soles.

“Ah, yes.  I know them well.”

“You do?” She quirked a curious eyebrow at him.

Unfortunately for him, he did.  But only because in a matter of weeks his father Edward, owner of an upscale shoe boutique in Boston, was retiring from the family business.  The store had been inexistence since the four Dawson brothers were toddlers.  Soon Drew would have the heady responsibility of taking over the shop.

Not that it was Drew’s idea.  Not by a long shot.  In fact, his father began introducing the concept to him well over a year ago.  Drew had been skiing with his buddies at Whistler in British Columbia when his father’s first phone call came.  Talk about a downhill slide…

Too bad Sam is already engaged to Prescott Sterling IV, a controlling man who has no time for unexpected things or unforeseen additions to his prestigious family. Too bad she doesn’t want to give up Emma, the new baby girl in her life.

Sam knows her heart is finally leading her to the right people to love; her makeshift family is opening her heart to the possibilities of love. Surely something that feels so right can’t be wrong?

As weeks go by, Sam discovers the one-of-akind joy of loving a child, as well as an unexpected passion for a certain handsome Brit. As that circle of love is tested by the return of the baby’s biological parents, and the wrath of her ex-fiancé’s mother, Sam learns that she must choose her future, and the one man who can make her heart go pitter patter.

Read the Excerpt…

Chapter One

“A guy as sweet as me could positively melt out there,” the dark-haired man in the billowy trench coat announced as he stepped into Chausseures Shoe Boutique.

At the commotion, Sam glanced up momentarily from the basic white pump she held.  She watched the man stomp his soaked Italian loafers on the floor mat, and heard the blustery, rain-swept wind blow the door to a clamorous close behind him.

His noisy entrance was startling.  His British accent staggering.  Its alluring effect was practically visible to the naked eye. Like sprinkles of golden fairy dust, it drifted from one female patron to the next, instantly charming them, one by one.  Some women tittered back at him.  One older woman batted her eyes demurely like a starlet from an old-time movie.  Some smiled sweetly…others languorously.

Shaking loose the raindrops from his collar, he was seemingly unaware that he had just cast a spell on every female shopper in the shoe boutique.  And all within two seconds flat.

Well, on every female except for Sam, who couldn’t help but muse to herself about the fate of the brassy Englishman.

Wonder how Uncle Dominic will handle this one? She stood back and looked on with amused curiosity.

After all, the Brit’s rumbling entrance had totally disrupted Chausseures’ typically quiet ambience.  Surely Uncle Dominic would politely admonish the man, take him aside and quietly speak to him.

She watched as her uncle, Dominic Barnaclo, looking every bit the debonair proprietor with his peppered moustache and perfectly knotted tie, approached the Brit.  But instead of squelching the Englishman, he thrust his arms wide open and welcomed him enthusiastically.

“B.D.!” Uncle Dom cried out, also raising his voice well past the normal “boutique decibel” range.  “It’s you!”

“D.B.!”  The man answered in kind.  “Indeed it is.”

Sam dropped her jaw and nearly the linen pump as well, watching as the two men hugged warmly, looking as familiar as father and son.  Delighting in their reunion, they performed a convoluted secret handshake of sorts, and laughed jovially when Uncle Dominic couldn’t get his part right.

“It’s been a long time,” she heard her uncle say.

“Truly, sir,” B.D. answered him, grinning openly.  “My father sends his very best, of course.  And my mother sends a kiss – though I’ll refrain from delivering that particular sentiment.”

Uncle Dom chuckled at that, clasped the young man on the shoulder and led him around the store, pointing out certain inventory while exchanging tidbits of news.

Funny…Sam thought…Uncle Dom never seems even a smidgen that pleased to see Prescott.

Prescott Sterling.  Her fiancé.  The man she’d hoped her Aunt Maria and Uncle Dom would embrace, being that they were childless and had no other nieces or nephews.  And if not for her aunt and uncle, Sam had hoped it for herself.  Ever since her mother and father had separated and relocated to opposites sides of the country, Aunt Maria and Uncle Dom had become like surrogate parents to her.

But her aunt – and especially her Uncle Dom – never seemed to warm to Prescott for some reason.  Sam tried to explain to them that it wasn’t Prescott’s fault he was a fourth generation Sterling and heir to a multi-million dollar fortune.  Anyone growing up with five-course meals, a butler, and a nanny might seem a little stiff, a little too formal, and unbending at times, right?

No.  Prescott certainly wasn’t like this B.D. fellow whom her uncle seemed so delighted to see.

Whereas Prescott was more quiet and reserved, the Englishman appeared full of life.  Totally animated, his hands moving, his eyes expressive as he talked with Uncle Dom.  And though his dark suit topped off by a khaki trench coat gave him the air of a gentleman with a crisp and cool demeanor, the way he sifted his fingers through his crop of thick, wavy hair had a casual, boyish sort of appeal to it.

At the thought, Prescott’s diamond-clustered engagement ring, a Sterling family heirloom, weighed heavy on her finger.  She felt guilty for making such comparisons between the two men.

But maybe that’s what jittery brides-to-be do, Sam thought, seeking to ease her conscience.  Anyway, it didn’t mean anything, did it?  It was normal.  A mere observation, she reassured herself as she turned her gaze from the boisterous Brit and attempted to concentrate on the white heel once again.  That is, until she caught the tail end of her uncle’s sentence.

“– must meet my niece.”

Her eyes shot open wide.  Her heart leaped in her chest as Uncle Dom guided “B.D.” over to where she standing at the display of traditional linen pumps.

Even from across the store, something about the Englishman put her survival instincts on high alert.  Probably the way he’d successfully disarmed every female in the store simply with a flash of his smile and an off-handed, witty comment.  But now he was coming within striking distance.  And even nearer still as her uncle urged the Englishman toward her with a gentle hand at his back.