How many weeks til Christmas? #holidaybook #RLFblog #handbag

Handbag and Book with

Loretta Wheeler

Le Handbag

The handbag I’ve chosen to post isn’t necessarily my favorite, but it is the one I most often select when running out the door. Why? Because it can be carried on the arm or the shoulder and the color is a brushed metallic gold. I like to keep a copper, bronze or gold purse readily available because they go with anything. And unlike beige, (another favorite color), they add a little “pop” to your outfit.

I picked this Fossil bag up at Steinmart when they were having a sale on their name brand bags, and I can say I’ve drug it everywhere. Of course you know that means the hand sanitizer gets a frequent workout too. I’m going to rub the bling right off the bottom of that bag before long!

This winter, Savanna Burke has found the Galveston winds are bringing change, for her, and for Terence Whittaker, the island’s well-known clairvoyant. 
Come visit Galveston Island with Savanna during Christmas and find the magical wonder of dreams coming true in Christmas on the Strand.

Savanna was only half-listening to the couple in front of her and Roth. She was trying to find a polite way to excuse herself. She wanted to find Terence before the ladies dressed in red took the floor. She definitely didn’t want to dance with anyone but him when the song played.

An unnerving feeling washed across her and a slow tingle slid its way down her spine. She felt as though someone was watching her—intently. Slowly turning around, Savanna felt as though she was being pulled by a magnet, everything inside her quivering in response.

When she faced the opposite direction, she breathed out a soft laugh and her lips parted in the beginning of a smile.

Terence was walking toward her, smiling at her in return. His smile broadened and he did a little Samba move at her.

Savanna laughed, loving that he wanted to play, tease her. She stepped forward, her hips swaying, matching Terence’s moves.

Terence held out his hand as he reached her, capturing hers in his own. Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips, kissing the backside, then turning it over, he kissed the inside of her palm, his mouth lingering.

Savanna’s heart raced, and her breath caught in her throat. Terence drew her close, his body molding against hers, the Samba moves slowing. Whispering against the shell of her ear, his breath teased at her. “Savanna, I presume?”

She nodded. Her breath so tight she couldn’t speak.

“Then, may I have the next dance, when the pale white circling the floor gives way to the passion of red?”

Savanna leaned back and looked up at him. Where on the face of God’s earth had this man come from? What man spoke this way and looked like Gable? This only happened in the movies. And Gable, only happened once in a lifetime.

Terence lowered his arm to her waist, his fingers resting at the base of her spine, stroking her in a light up and down movement. He brushed his lips across hers and murmured in between the caress of his mouth. “Follow me...we’re going to the center of the ballroom to dance. We’re going to give the photographer his heart’s desire, something that’ll light up tomorrow morning’s papers.”  

Find Christmas on the Strand at: booksite

Find Loretta Wheeler at: website

I have to admit, Loretta, I don't have a metallic handbag, except for a gold evening one my mom gave me. Readers: what's your favorite color of handbag?