If this book doesn’t give you a chill, nothing will.
An early winter blizzard is on the way. Chelsea prepares for the blizzard while they realize their winter shopping extravaganza is going belly up.
Chris is on the lake, handling Coast Guard duties in dangerous conditions. But something else is going on. He is melancholy, and Annie does not know why. She fears their relationship is ending.
Henrie takes charge of blizzard preparations, and manages a full Inn once the storm hits and power goes out around the community.
Two couples at the Inn have arrived with unknown motives. Two boaters have docked at The Marina for the winter. One seems to know what he’s doing. The other may not survive. Brothers come to town, determined to surf a Great Lake in the winter. But something else is going on with them as well.
Annie’s cats, desperate to find a way to eavesdrop on Chris, may have found a solution. A dog must be rescued from the storm. If this beautiful giant schnauzer no longer has a human, maybe Chris – if he’s sticking around – can take her in. But her human has other ideas.
Come visit with the folks of Chelsea for a while. Bring a blanket. You’ll need it.
Excerpt From Chapter 1
Someone standing at the bottom of the dune on that Monday morning, had that person looked up, would have seen a tallish man, almost six feet, with the erect bearing of someone with military training. A knit cap covered his hair, but the person looking up would have seen neatly trimmed, possibly prematurely white facial hair, both a mustache and beard.
The man stood half-facing the lake, half-facing something the watcher might not have recognized. The man held something small in his hand.
The watcher, if looking from the proper angle, would have seen a picture taking shape. A watercolor of the lake, whitecaps and drifting snow the only indication of a sharp wind whipping over the lake from the northwest.
By now, most watchers would have moved on, not taking the assault of the wind easily. The man, however, stood his ground on the dune. He was used to the wind, loved it, in fact, and allowed his senses to take it in as he committed thoughts and feelings to canvas.
The wind, harbinger of a wicked storm to come, was cold and sharp with pricks of snow from the last storm. The wind sang in harmony with the song in the man’s heart. The watercolor taking shape was building in colors of gray, blue and brown.
Snow clouds filled the sky, lighter gray, turning darker gray and finally slate blue. The gray lake turned darker gray and brown with whitecaps peaking at two feet. Snowdrifts, turning brown with the sand that mixed in, partially covered tall brown grasses.
The man was the Officer in Charge of the Coast Guard Station in Chelsea, a resort town on the sunset side of one of the Great Lakes. The town was insulated from the rest of the world, surrounded on two sides by a wooded state park and on another by the lake. One access road came in from the east.