Do you believe in Christmas Miracles?

We’ve a delicious extract for you to read from Helen J Rolfe’s heart-warming festive romance, Christmas Miracles at the Little Log Cabin.

Here’s what the blurb has to say about the book:

Holly is looking for a change and even though not everyone agrees with her career choices, she’s determined there’s more to this life than the long hours she works as an editor in New York City.

What she doesn’t expect is to meet Mitch, a recluse who’s hiding more than she realises.

Mitch does all he can to avoid human contact, spending his days in the little log cabin out in the woods behind Inglenook Falls where he owns a Christmas tree farm, so when Holly falls into his life, he’s not sure how to react.

All he knows is that something needs to change if he ever wants to get his life back on track.

Along with friends Cleo and Darcy, Holly is determined to bring joy back to Mitch’s life, but will he appreciate their interference? And when a business proposition throws everything up in the air, will it do more harm than good and ruin lives forever?

Both Holly and Mitch must learn that on the surface people aren’t always what they seem…but if you dig a little deeper, they can take you by surprise.

Curl up this Christmas for plenty of snowflakes, roaring log fires, a marriage proposal, unlikely friendships and second chances as we return to the much-loved characters in the New York Ever After series.

Available to buy on Amazon.

About the author:

Helen J Rolfe writes contemporary women’s fiction and enjoys weaving stories about family, friendship, secrets, and community.

Characters often face challenges and must fight to overcome them, but above all, Helen’s stories always have a happy ending.

Location is a big part of the adventure in Helen’s books and she enjoys setting stories in different cities and countries around the world.

So far, locations have included Melbourne, Sydney, New York, Connecticut, Bath and the Cotswolds.

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Read an extract:

Mitch had only come out of the cabin to chop some more wood. He hadn’t expected anyone to be snooping around. And he certainly hadn’t expected to have to play the knight in shining armour to a helpless woman with immaculately styled auburn hair and sharp blue eyes.

He reached down and checked she was still breathing. She’d gone down hard in her quest to get away from him and there was only a little blood, although a decent-sized bump had already formed on her forehead.

He scooped her up in his arms. She weighed less than any of the logs he’d had to haul up from the fields earlier and he carried her carefully back down the path, his all-terrain hiking boots coping expertly with the slippery surface. She stirred and groaned and muttered something incomprehensible but didn’t wake up enough to realise what was going on. When he reached the cabin he pushed the door open with his foot after he’d managed to manoeuvre the handle with her in his arms, and inside he took her straight through to the sofa. She was wrapped up warm and he somehow managed to remove the camera from round her neck, the bag looped across her body, her scarf and her coat. He draped the soft pink scarf near the log burner, weighing it down on the mantel above with a pot containing loose change. He took off her boots and she roused a little, but when she tried to speak again she sounded groggy.

He hung around a moment longer in case she woke but when she didn’t, and when he was sure she didn’t need to be rushed to the emergency room – she wasn’t vomiting, she’d managed to open her eyes a bit and attempt to talk, although none of it had made sense – he took off his own boots and set both pairs by the log burner. Once he was happy she was comfortable he took out a broom and swept up the debris he’d brought in. He may look a mess but his log cabin wasn’t. His mum and dad had kept this place shipshape when they’d still been around and now that it was his, he wouldn’t allow himself to let it go in the same way as he had in so many other facets of his life.

He leaned the broom against the cabin wall by the door and as the fire inside the log burner began to fade, he studied his guest’s face. She wasn’t from Inglenook Falls. Well, she could be, but she certainly hadn’t lived there when he’d been a proper part of the town – something he hadn’t been in a long time. She had beautiful long, wavy hair and delicate facial features with a tiny mole above the top of her lip that you only saw if you were up real close. This woman was from the city, he could tell. He saw women like her every time he had to head into Manhattan. He, on the other hand, looked more like someone who begged on a street corner than someone who had once walked tall in a suit. Back then, not only had he had a job, he’d also had people in his corner.

Her camera had survived the fall. It looked expensive. Content she was all right for now, Mitch went up the staircase made in the same cedar logs as the rustic cabin, ducking in the same place he did every time to avoid hitting his head on the curved beam above, to the landing, where he knew there was a soft cloth he’d used to clean the glass on the photo frames up here. He gave the woman’s camera a once-over to rid it of dirt. He cleaned the camera bag up too and then stowed the equipment safely back inside. He looked in the little pocket at the front of the bag to see if he could get some ID for the woman. That way he might be able to return her home so she was no longer his problem. It was a long time since anyone had come to this cabin apart from him or his friend Jude, and the odd person from town who braved it to ask about Christmas trees, and that was the way he liked it.