Tag Archives: Christina Freeburn

A day in the life of Hope Hunter by Christina Freeburn

I stood at the threshold of the church. A pine scent wafted toward me. Tied at the end of each pew was a simple evergreen wreath with a velvet bow. A smidge of worry tickled my brain. What about those with allergies? Would they be bothered by the smell?

“What do you think Grandma?” Faith bounded up to me, a wide smile brightening her face.

I pushed my concerns away. My granddaughter Faith and my best friend Cheryl had upgraded the plastic wreaths the church owned to real ones so the Christmas Eve Service had some special touches for the wedding. My wedding. Once by beloved Joe died, I never dreamed of having male companionship again. A husband. But here I was, about ready to walk down the aisle again. My beautiful granddaughter, the treasure of my life, insisted I deserved a special day to celebrate my nuptials to Randall Moore.

“Don’t you like it?” There was worry in Faith’s voice.

I hugged her. “It’s lovely. Perfect. Just the way it is.”

I spoke the last sentence louder as I spotted Cheryl trying to adjust the Christmas tree at the front of the sanctuary. The pastor would not be happy if she knocked it over, and she might get hurt. “Sweetie, I think your other grandma needs some help.”

Faith’s brows furrowed down. She turned and heaved out a sigh. “Grandma Cheryl, I told you I’d help you.”

Cheryl snorted. “I’ve been putting up Christmas trees since before you were born. I think I know how to do this.”

Faith ran to the front. “You’re not putting one up, you’re trying to move a fully decorated tree.”

“It’s in the way.” Cheryl huffed and puffed, tugging the tree to the left. “We won’t be able to get good pictures if the tree is in this spot.”

Maybe my choice of a Christmas Eve wedding wasn’t such a good idea. Originally, I thought it was perfect. I wanted a simple event with an open door policy for anyone who wanted to take part in my and Randall’s celebration. All I wanted was an exchanging of vows during a church service and refreshments in the fellowship hall. Randall and I had agreed we didn’t want a big to do. That would be saved for when my granddaughter—now our granddaughter—was married in March.

And frankly, at our ages Randall Moore and I were more likely to remember our anniversary if we were married on a holiday. Christmas Eve was perfect as Randall’s children and grandchildren had already planned a visit for the Christmas holidays, the church was decorated, and most of the residents of Eden would be at church that night. The candlelight service sounded like the perfect night for our wedding.

I hadn’t envisioned Faith and Cheryl believing Christmas was overshadowing me. There was one way to distract them away from the Christmas tree and trying to find other ways to make me the highlight of a night that should be about love and goodness for all of mankind.

“I need help finding my dress. It’s gone missing.” I added a little woebegone to my voice.

Faith and Cheryl spun toward me, shock on their face.

“Your wedding dress?” Faith practically screeched. She ran for the office we were using as my dressing.

Cheryl gasped and rushed for the door. “I’ll check the car.”

Now, I knew exactly where my dress was but I knew Faith always loved a good mystery. It would be a god distraction for her. And Cheryl, even though she fussed at our granddaughter for involving herself a pursuit best left for the police, I knew she secretly admired her—and was thrilled of Faith’s meddling.

As Cheryl liked to remind me: At least Faith got a man out of it.

You can read more about Hope in Altered to Death, the sixth book in the “Faith Hunter Scrap This” mystery series, coming November 28, 2017.

Even knee-deep in planning her wedding, Faith Hunter finds herself distracted by the town scrapbook she was commissioned to create. Eden’s oldest mystery, the founding family’s exodus nearly a hundred years ago, remains unsolved. When a search through the family’s abandoned mansion leads to the uncovering of bones on the property and ex-boyfriend Steve Davis announces a surprise heir has staked a claim, Faith is determined to dig up the truth left behind.

Meanwhile, family friend Wyatt Buford asks Faith to look into his deadbeat father’s disappearing act and his connection to the murder. Her quest for answers unearths secrets past and present that some would prefer stay buried at any cost. Faith’s resolve to present the facts and nothing but about Eden’s history could lead to her own future being cut short.

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About the author
Christina Freeburn started jotting down stories on her bus commute to high school and never stopped. The Scrap This Mystery series is a mix of crafty and crime, bringing together her love of mysteries and scrapbooking. Her New Beginnings series is an inspirational romantic suspense featuring heroines and heroes willing to risk their lives to find hope, promise and a future for those struggling in a world that’s set against them. Christina served in the JAG Corps of the US Army and has worked as a paralegal, librarian, and church secretary. Currently, she is plotting two new series and waiting to see which one wins over her muse. Connect with Christina at christinafreeburn.com.

All comments are welcomed.

Vacation time with Faith Hunter by Christina Freeburn

masked-to-deathHolding up a black dress on a hanger, I walked toward the window to see it in the daylight. The color looked a little faded. The material was a wool blend, too hot for an evening in the Caribbean. I dropped it onto the nope pile on my bed, returning to my closet.

I removed a blouse and skirt combo. It was a cute outfit, but not sophisticated cute, more like going to a movie with a friend instead of out on a date at a fancy restaurant. More clothes for the no pile.

So far, the only items in my packing pile for my vacation were the new unmentionables I bought, a swimsuit, and two pairs of pajamas with Disney characters sprinkled all over the shirt and shorts. I was running out of options in my closet.

Squaring my shoulder back, I marched back, determined to find something to wear on the cruise. I couldn’t walk around in a state of undress or in my bathing suit for a week. Though, Ted might appreciate that plan.

I pulled out a blouse. Nope. Next up for inspection was another dress. I cringed. Definitely no. Why had I bought it? I threw it onto the ever growing nope pile before collapsing onto the floor in a heap of despair. I draped my arm over my eyes and sighed. I had nothing to wear.

Okay maybe not nothing, but none of the clothes I owned would work on a cruise, especially for the ceremony, formal, and semi-formal dinner nights. Where would I get a dress that was fancy enough for formal but didn’t look like I was going to the prom? There weren’t many choices in Eden, West Virginia.

Maybe if I hadn’t watched An Affair to Remember, I wouldn’t be so insecure about what I owned. I let out a dramatic, long-suffering moan. Why had I agreed to go with Ted on this cruise?

A list of reasons tumbled through my brain: because it sounded fun, I’d always dreamed of traveling, Eden was cold the beginning of February and the Caribbean was warm, a free seven-day cruise. And the most important: Bob Roget and Garrison Moore were getting married and I was invited.

I was going to make a trip to Morgantown to buy some new clothes, the perfect solution to my first world dilemma. My cell trilled. I snagged it. An unfamiliar number displayed on the screen.

“Hello,” I said a little suspiciously. After all the ruckuses I had managed to find my way into, I couldn’t help being leery of a call from a strange number.

“Is this Faith Hunter?” A sophisticated feminine voice asked.

“Yes, it is.” I racked my brain trying to think if I had inadvertently got myself into anything recently.

“Wonderful. I wasn’t sure if Ted had given me the correct number. I just spoke to him and he was in a rush and blurted it out. I wasn’t sure I wrote it down correctly.”

Who was this woman? A teeny bit of jealous wiggled through me. Why had Ted had time to answer her call but not mine? I was about to ask who the heck she was when nurture won out over nature and my manners showed themselves. “May I inquire as to who I’m speaking with? I haven’t spoken to Ted today so wasn’t expecting a call.”

“This is Odessa. His mother.”

At least that explained why he answered her call and not mine. Ted and Bob had been telling some tales about their mother and one item was a common factor—Odessa wasn’t a woman who liked being ignored. “What can I help you with?”

“I need your measurements. Hip. Bust. Sleeve. Length from waist to knee. I’m having your dress made for the ceremony. It will be spectacular and will also work, with a few added pieces, for formal night.”

I wanted to pick out my gown for formal night. My plan was to have a gown risqué enough to catch Ted’s attention but not so revealing it scandalized my grandmothers if they saw a picture of me wearing it. My gaze drifted over to the bed. A gown cost a lot of money and I wanted to purchase a cruise wardrobe.

“Can I call you with them tomorrow? I’ll have a seamstress in town measure me so I know they’re accurate,” I said.

“Let me give you my email. It’s easier to reach me that way when I’m out at sea.”

I remembered Ted’s mom worked on the cruise ship we were sailing on. I wrote down her information. “If you’d like, I can send them directly to the seamstress making the dress.”

“The ship’s costume designer is making them. Our dresses are going to be the talk of the ball,” Odessa said, before hanging up.

Costume designer? Ball? I hit the speed dial for Ted.

MASKED TO DEATH is the fifth book in the Faith Hunter Scrap This mystery series published by Henery Press, January 2017.

A Caribbean cruise is the perfect setting for a Roget wedding, and Faith meeting Ted’s family. She also hopes the vacation gets their stalled romance moving, but it doesn’t take long for that dream to capsize. Ted’s daughter hates her. The ex-wife is adored. Odessa Roget is surly. And the banned father of a groom, John Roget, requests Faith’s assistance in bringing down a jewel theft ring masterminded by his ex-wife.

Having had a man she loved accuse her of a crime, Faith won’t let Odessa travel down the same path and agrees to help. Faith sets her course on uncovering the true criminals—which might be a groom’s best friend. The romantic week turns disastrous as a wedding is interrupted, suspicious deaths point to murders, and Ted’s daughter schemes to reunite her parents. Instead of diamonds being a girl’s best friend, Faith finds they’re cruising toward Davy Jones’ Locker.

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About the author
The Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Series brings together Christina’s love of mysteries, scrapbooking, and West Virginia. When not writing or reading, she can be found in her craft room or at a crop. She’s working on the sixth book in the series published by Henery Press. Christina served in the US Army JAG Corps and also worked as a paralegal, librarian, and church secretary. Find Christina at www.christinafreeburn.com or her author page on Facebook.

All comments are welcomed.

A Conversation with Karen England by Christina Freeburn

Framed to Death“You went to school with Faith Hunter. What do you have on her or Steve Davis? Better yet, both of them.” My editor’s eyes gleamed as she slid onto my desk. “Their names are being dropped everywhere around town.”

Faith Hunter. Faith Hunter. Faith Hunter. I was so sick of that name. All the big—newsworthy—events in Eden revolved around her.

“There’s nothing of interest about her,” I said.

“She’s dating Steve Davis, the cousin of the man she married who turned out to be a murderer. That’s not nothing. Become her BFF. Faith is a story. A huge one.”

“She wants to downplay that part of her life, and Steve Davis is mute on the subject of his cousin.”

“Talk to other family members. Make one of them confide in you.”

I shook my head. “Not a good plan. James Davis is a legal terror. If we get on his bad side, he’d sue and would end up owning this paper.” And with my luck, he’d hand ownership over to Faith and I’d have to answer to her for the rest of my career.

“What happened to you, Karen? Where’s your edge? Your fight? All I’m hearing are excuses of why you can’t. . .let me correct myself, won’t go after a story. One that will sell papers.”

“I haven’t lost anything. I’m trying to make sure we keep what we have. And I don’t think there’s any meaningful story there. Everyone knows about Faith’s past. It’s old news.”

“If you’re only planning on listing the facts, that’s true. But life is more than the what. Get into the whys, and how it happened. How did Faith win? She was conned into marrying a murderer, and now solves murders. She’s a great story.”

“I’m an investigative reporter. I don’t do human interest pieces.”

“If you don’t do something that increases our circulation, Karen, you won’t be writing anything here.” My boss stood so she could glare down at me.

Just what I wanted, giving Faith more attention. “The only interesting thing about her situation is how come the police allow her to interfere. What does she have on someone? Or is it because of her relationship with Steve, or someone else on the force, or possibly the fact her grandmother is dating Chief Moore.”

My editor grinned. “That’s the Karen I know. Small towns love a homegrown hero or villain. I don’t care which one give me.”

“This town will be talking soon.”

“Good. I want to hear everyone gossiping about Faith Hunter and the police.”

What would I have to do to get the town talking about Karen England? I didn’t want to write a story that was all about Faith. I wanted it about my reporting skills. My drive. My talent for digging out the truth.

And a story on Faith wouldn’t do that.

I closed my eyes and drew in cleansing breaths, searching my internal database for a story. There was nothing of interest in Eden, West Virginia—or nothing I could write about. I hadn’t lost my edge. The paper caged it up. My editor might have forgotten she vetoed my story about the designer drug rumored to have found its way to our teens, but I hadn’t.

That was what the town needed to talk about. If there was story to fight for, it was that one. I knew the drug was out there. So did other. There wasn’t any solid proof—yet. I’d find it. Even if it took me to where my feared.

Eden High School football team.

Framed To Death is the fourth book in the Faith Hunter Scrap This mystery series, published by Henery Press, April 2016.

Eden has turned into a hotspot of crime, and Faith finds herself smack dab in the middle of the flare-up. When a favor for a friend links Faith to the synthetic marijuana problem invading her town, no good deed goes unpunished becomes the title of her life. The town accuses the police of favoritism toward her, putting a strain between Faith and Ted, and a new officer is determined to prove Faith’s guilt.

When the criminal is outed, Faith’s relief is short-lived. A fire takes out the store—along with the suspected dealer—and she’s now number one on an officer’s suspect list. Faith sets out to prove her own innocence, and her digging sparks the truth to life. Instead of the truth setting the town free, Faith finds out it might destroy Eden, the friends she holds dear, and smother out her own life.

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About the author
Christina Freeburn served in the US Army JAG Corps and also worked as a paralegal, librarian, and church secretary. The Scrap This Mystery Series (Cropped to Death, Designed to Death, Embellished to Death and Framed to Death) brings together her love of mysteries, scrapbooking, and West Virginia. She’s working on future books in the Faith Hunter Scrap This mystery series published by Henery Press. Visit Christina at christinafreeburn.com, @ChristinaFreeb1 and on Facebook

Giveaway: Leave comment below for your chance to win a print copy of Framed To Death. US entries only, please. The giveaway will end May 4, 2016 at 12 AM EST. Good luck everyone!

All comments are welcomed.

A Day in the Life of Cheryl Greyfield by Christina Freeburn

Embellished to DeathMy granddaughter Faith walked around the Scrap This and slapped Post-It notes on the shelves. A kaleidoscope of color decorated almost every inch of the room and the store looked like an art gallery for slips of paper. There were slips on the paper racks, journaling pens, trimmers, and embellishment packages. Not one product was safe from being tagged by stickers.

“Are you color-coding the store?” I asked as Faith made another lap around the store.

She rolled her eyes. “No.”

I bit my tongue. I was trying harder these days to treat my granddaughter as a young woman and not a child needing constant redirection and a scolding. Though, there were times she made it a huge struggle. Like now. I lost a little of the battle when I allowed a huge sigh to escape.

Faith slapped a couple of sticky notes underneath the shelf holding the glitter glue. “I’m using the Post-Its to remind me what product I’m bringing to sell at the retreat this weekend.”

The girl was just like her grandma Hope. She loved sparkle. “Don’t you think you’re being a tad optimistic about how much the store will sell this weekend? Scrap This won’t be the only vendor.”

“We’re the main vendor.” Faith grinned at me. “Don’t worry, Grandma. We’ll do great.”

“I’d love for you to leave us some merchandise. We have our own National Scrapbook Day retreat this weekend at Scrap This.” I pointed at the white van parked out front. “Besides, you are not going to fit everything you want to bring into the rental.”

Faith’s gaze roamed around the store, taking in the product she marked then contemplated the van. Her brows drew down.

I grinned. She arrived at the conclusion that grandma was right. Like always. One day I hoped the lesson stuck.

Faith rushed over to the counter and pulled out the phone book. “I’ll find a bigger vehicle.”

Once again, I forced myself to let Faith problem-solve for herself. We had plenty of merchandise in the storage room I could unpack for this weekend. Hope and I wanted Faith to take over the store in a couple of years and I needed Faith to believe in herself. She never would if I second-guessed all her decisions.

And on the positive side, this time her intense focus was on selling at the weekend crop and not on a solving a murder.

A shadow near the window caught my attention. Turning my head slightly, I spotted Steve Davis sauntering toward the store. The man reminded me so much of my late husband Joseph. Tall, handsome, and chivalrous. Steve had moved to Eden a year before Faith returned home and had rented the townhouse next to Hope and me. He had been a great help to us, and had taken a keen interest in our granddaughter. Steve would do anything for her.

Steve knocked on the door. Faith hustled over to let him in, a bright smile on her face.

My heart danced. Well, maybe she’d at least listen to me about Steve and marry the man. If there was one area item I wanted her to take my advice on, it was on who was the perfect man for her. Grandmas just know.

You can read more about Cheryl in Embellished to Death, the third book in the “Faith Hunter Scrap This” mystery series, published by Henery Press. The first book in the series is Cropped to Death.

GIVEAWAY: Leave a comment by 6 p.m. eastern on September 25 for the chance to win a copy of EMBELLISHED TO DEATH. The giveaway is open to U.S. residents only.

Meet the author
The Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery series brings together Christina Freeburn’s love of mysteries, scrapbooking, and West Virginia. When not writing or reading, she can be found in her scrapbook room or at a crop. Alas, none of the real-life crops have had a sexy male prosecutor or a handsome police officer attending.

Christina served in the JAG Corps of the US Army and also worked as a paralegal, librarian, and church secretary. She lives in West Virginia with her husband, children, a dog, and a rarely seen cat except by those who are afraid or allergic to felines.

Visit Christina at her website, on Twitter or on Facebook

A Day In The Life With Detective Ted Roget by Christina Freeburn

DESIGNED TO DEATHFaith Hunter stood before me, offering me a beguiling smile. “Can I ask you a question?”

I snuck the case file I was working on into the top drawer of the metal desk. There wasn’t a reason for Faith to be interested in another suspicious activity reported by Mrs. Barlow, but one never knew with Faith.

Faith liked being involved in my business, detective work, more than she did her grandmothers’ scrapbook store, where she was actually employed. Once a person worked in the legal field, it was hard to leave it behind. Especially when the person in question felt like it wasn’t her choice that led to a career switch.

Or the reason I believed Faith inserting herself into murder cases. She’d tell me, and anyone else who’d listen, she wasn’t interested in crime-solving, but kept allowing friends to talk her into amateur sleuthing.

“Ted?” She used a breathy voice that always grabbed my attention, but never lead where I’d like it.


She blinked her luminous brown eyes at me. “No to even asking you a question?”

“I know what your question is.” I leaned back in my chair.

“You do not.” She flashed me a smile mixing teasing and smugness.

There was something about that “I knew something you don’t” challenge I wanted to accept with a dare of my own. I know she had feelings for me she wanted to ignore. But I knew about them.

Faith was easier to read than she believed. I wanted her to have all the facts before she settled into her choice of Davis. Not that Steve Davis was a bad guy, or bad for her, but I knew Faith and I were better for each other.

Faith walked around and her hand on my shoulder. Her trusting gaze centered right into my eyes.

Every time the woman drew near, protectiveness surged through me…and even worse a desire to tug her into my arms and kiss her good and well.

I had to talk her out of this mission of mercy that would turn into a disaster. Anything involving a Hooligan never turned out the way a person had planned. “You know it’s not a good idea. I know it. No is the smart answer. For both of us.”

She blinked once and her lips turned down into a frown.

Why had I expected her to accept the word no? She hadn’t any other time I said it.

“Please?” She batted her eyes at me then offered the faux damsel-in-distress look of hers.

Right. I crossed my arms. Who did she think I was Davis? Like I’d fall for the quivering lips and the “you’d be my hero” look in her eyes. Helping her out on this harebrained scheme meant I’d go along for the next. With Faith there was always a next, either one of her choosing or one guilt made her say yes to.

“It’s career day in an elementary school. Hank is out of work again. Henry thinks scrapbooking is boring so doesn’t want his mom. And the only person he thinks might be interesting is me.”

“Because you helped solve Michael Kane’s murder.” Why Sierra and Hank thought that was a conversation suitable for young children I’d never know. Then again, we weren’t just talking about young children but the Hooligans, boys I was surprised hadn’t pushed people into committing a murder just so they’d be locked up and safe from those kids’ pranks.

Faith nodded. “Henry wants someone to talk about crime. It’s me or you. I figured you’d be a better choice.”

“Why’s that?” I couldn’t resist asking. I almost wanted to convince Faith she’d be perfect for the role, as amateur sleuthing seemed her real career lately. But, knew better than to encourage her in something I’d deal with later.

“You have handcuffs, and the authority to do something if Henry feels he needs to commit a crime it can be solved.”

“The child wouldn’t hurt a classmate. Would he?”

“I don’t think so.” Now Faith looked worried. “He’s never committed a felony.”

I hoped not. Henry was only six. But a few misdemeanors around town already had the Hooligans names on them.

Two of them literally. Hank really needed to teach his kids not to leave a “calling card” when creating mischief around town. Fortunately, Gussie had some wayward boys of her own so wasn’t too angry about the redecoration of her front yard. Others in the community would not be as understanding.

If Faith talked to the class, Henry might decide to take up crime-fighting. While I didn’t need more criminals, I also didn’t need more amateur sleuths running around town. “I’ll talk with the class.”

You can read more about Ted in Designed to Death, the second book in the “Faith Hunter Scrap This” mystery series, published by Henery Press. The first book in the series is Cropped To Death.

Meet the author
The Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery series brings together Christina Freeburn’s love of mysteries, scrapbooking, and West Virginia. When not writing or reading, she can be found in her scrapbook room or at a crop. Alas, none of the real-life crops have had a sexy male prosecutor or a handsome police officer attending.

Christina served in the JAG Corps of the US Army and also worked as a paralegal, librarian, and church secretary. She lives in West Virginia with her husband, children, a dog, and a rarely seen cat except by those who are afraid or allergic to felines.

Visit Christina on her website, on Twitter or on Facebook.

Books are available at retail and online booksellers.

Cropped to Death by Christina Freeburn

Cropped to Death by Christina Freeburn is the first book in the new “Faith Hunter Scrap This” mystery series. Publisher: Henery Press, November 2012

Former US Army JAG specialist, Faith Hunter, returns to her West Virginia home to work in her grandmothers’ scrapbooking store determined to lead an unassuming life after her adventure abroad turned disaster. But her quiet life unravels when her friend is charged with murder and Faith inadvertently supplied the evidence. So Faith decides to cut through the scrap and piece together what really happened. With a sexy prosecutor, a determined homicide detective, a handful of sticky suspects and a crop contest gone bad, Faith quickly realizes if she s not careful, she ll be the next one cropped.

When one of Faith’s employees is accused of murdering her husband, a secret past and a promise propels Faith into investigating and she’ll have to crop the killer out of the picture if she wants to see another scrapbook. This was a great read that had me reading non-stop from the moment I turned the first page. The author did a good job in keeping me in suspense with plenty of twists and turns and every time I thought I had it figured out, the author changed the direction in which the story was headed. What intrigued me most is Faith’s past and how it played in her approached to the clues she uncovered. The writing flowed easily and I liked the cast of characters in this charming whodunit. Christina has written an enjoyable story and I look forward to learning more about Faith and her friends.

A Day in The Life of Faith Hunter by Christina Freeburn

“Your grandmothers said you needed my help.” Steve placed a large cup of coffee on the counter, pushing it toward me.

I held in my sigh…a cross between annoyance, resignation and appreciation of a man’s hotness. One thing Steve had going for him was his keen insight on how a peace offering made meddling a little better–especially, when his offering combined caffeine and chocolate into a delicious beverage. Once again, I’d forgive his attempt to play knight-in-shining armor to the damsel-in-distress my grandmothers kept insisting I was.

“Can’t say that I do.” I lifted the foam cup to my mouth and blew on the steam.

Steve’s mouth quirked up. Darn him. Why did he have to be gorgeous? It would be so much easier if he lacked manners, never showered, and my grandmothers loathed him.

“Hope was very insistent I come over this morning and help.” Steve crossed his muscular arms over his chest.

“What a surprise?” You’d think I’d get used to it by now. This was pretty much how every day of my life started since moving back home to Eden, West Virginia. For some reason, my grandmothers Cheryl and Hope think I needed…with a capital N…a man. More specifically Steve Davis, a neighbor and an assistant prosecuting attorney in our town.

It’s not that I have anything against lawyers …or hot guys for that matter…I had served as a legal specialist in the JAG Corps of the US Army. I liked the law. I believed in it. Well…believed and put faith in it until it smacked me around and made me run home for cover. The real issue I had with Steve was that he had the potential of running a background check on me through official means. Not a skill you wanted a significant other to have when you have something to hide. If someone googled me they wouldn’t find much. A twenty-something-year-old who is employed in her grandmothers’ scrapbooking store, and lived right next door to them, was a yawn fest for most men. My life revolving around my grandmothers gave me this needy, clingy vibe that kept men’s roving gaze from hovering over me for too long.

Except for Steve for some crazy reason. He didn’t seem like the type of man who’d want a needy woman. Maybe he thought there was a little more to my spinster ways than being the shy type. And it was that thought keeping me determined to clutch onto my single-forever status.

Steve remained standing there. The quickest way to get back to my job, currently circling new scrapbook supplies lines our customers might be interested in, was to find something for Steve to do for me. He meant well. I also knew he didn’t have a choice as my grandmothers were experts on appearing fragile and delicate when it suited their purpose…like snagging me ‘my man’. I loved my grandmothers dearly, embraced their spunk and spirit but would rather they left my love life–or preferred lack of one–to me.

Steve pointed toward the hallway leading to the office where Grandma Hope was working on the books. “It seems maybe Hope is the one who needed the help. I’ll go check with her.”

I don’t think so. If he came to help me, I should at least get some of my tasks done. And I had just the one in mind. “Well…there is one thing, but I hate to ask.” I batted my eyelashes and gave him my sweetest smile. “The paper racks get a little wobbly especially when customers are taking sheets from the bottom rows. Would you mind seeing if you can stabilize them for me?”

“Not a problem. I’ll take a quick look then see what supplies I’ll need.”

“Okay.” I scooted my rolling chair closer to the counter then propped my elbows up. Steve got on all fours, backside facing me, and jiggled the paper racks.

“That louse.” My fellow co-worker and friend Marilyn Kane flounced into the store. “Sorry I’m late but you won’t believe what my husband–” She stared at Steve and then at me. “I’m not even going to ask.”

“He’s helping. You know the paper racks are wobbly.”

“Faith Patience Hunter!” Grandma Hope stood in the middle of the store, hands planted on her ample hips. “What are you making poor Steve do?”

Grandma Cheryl stood beside Hope, beaming. “That’s my girl!”

You can read more about Faith in Cropped to Death, the first book in the new “Faith Hunter Scrap This” mystery series.

** Christina is giving away one (1) copy of CROPPED TO DEATH. Contest open to US residents only and ends November 22. Leave a comment to be included in the giveaway. Book will be shipped directly from the author. **

Meet the author
Christina Freeburn wrote her first book in the ninth grade, mostly during algebra class which she doesn’t recommend. She served in the JAG Corps of the US Army and also worked as a paralegal, librarian, and secretary. She lives in West Virginia with her husband, children, a dog, and a rarely seen cat except by those who are afraid or allergic to felines. When not writing or reading, she can be found in her scrapbook area among layouts, paper, bling and stuffed Disney characters. Her novel, Cropped to Death, brings together her love of mysteries, scrapbooking and West Virginia.

You can visit Christina on Facebook, on Twitter or at her website.

Books are available at retail and online booksellers.