Murray Pura Bücher

When War Reaches Clarissa's Back Door, the Trustworthy Become Even Fewer. Journey into Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, of 1863 where Clarissa Avery Ross lives a full life. By day she is the daughter of a respectable shoemaker being courted by seminary student Kyle Forrester. But by night she is a conductor on the Underground Railroad, working with a mysterious man called Liberty. She would like to share her work with Kyle, but he refuses to enlist when the war breaks out. How can she remain true to a man being labeled a coward? When the war comes to her back door in an epic battle, the greatest challenges to her faith and love are yet to come.

LIFE HAPPENS LOVE HAPPENS GRACE HAPPENS There is a great mix of lives here - the Schlabach Amish, the English, immigration from Scandinavia, Europe and Asia. No different than the rest of the world, really. In all, Kingfisher Cross has just under five thousand souls, each of them unique, as souls everywhere are unique, all in their own unique family, worlds and realities. Kingfisher Cross is a small town in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Here are its people, here are their stories. In Gypsy Blood, a young woman discovers a family secret in a notebook in the attic that changes everything. Skipping Stones finds two sisters falling out as they both vie for a man who trains horses for the Olympics. In The Lake Effect, a man and a woman who have nothing in common cannot stop loving one another no matter how hard they try. Hunter's Moon has a widower struggling with his romantic feelings for a woman outside his faith. In Mothers and Sons, three women struggle with the harsh reality of having sons in the military in war zones. In Nevena in Love, a young woman with no desire for any sort of romance in her life has her world turned on its head when she forges a friendship with a man outside her comfort zone.

I am Solina Cheng. I led protests against the Chinese crackdown in Hong Kong. The police wanted me in a maximum security prison. They began to hunt me down. I was granted refugee status in the United States. My sponsors were an Amish church. I knew nothing about the Amish. The only connection I found between me and them is that I was a refugee and so were they. They'd fled religious persecution in Europe back in the 1700s and I'd fled the persecution of my humanity and my liberty in the 2020s. Other than that? Was the US State Department kidding me? No electricity? No cars? No planes? No TV? No electric guitars or amplifiers? No jeans or miniskirts? Really? So, they'd fled from a 1700s Europe but never left that 1700s Europe behind? I rolled my eyes about a dozen plus one times for no one's benefit but my own. And maybe God's. They put me on a plane in NYC. They put me on a bus after I landed. I wanted bright lights, big city, like I was used to. I wanted LA or San Francisco or Seattle. When the bus stopped, and I woke up, I saw mountains. Tall and capped in white with flanks of indigo and the purest mauve. They looked like cutouts, their edges and definition were so sharp. I did not think about picking up what little bit of luggage I had. Just stared at mountain, after mountain, after mountain. Then I saw the dark brown horse. I didn't even like horses but it was beautiful. I saw the buggy it was harnessed to. I saw the tall man in his weird clothes from a hundred years before. More than a hundred years. I knew who he was from my books. Fiction and nonfiction. The Amish Man. With his long black beard, wide-brimmed hat and black suspenders over a light blue shirt. Right next to him in a long dark dress with a black Kapp on her head? The Amish Woman. The Amish Man lifted his hand in greeting. "Miss Solina Cheng? I am Bishop Miller. This is my wife, Mrs. Miller. Welcome to Idaho."They were so ready to embrace me. I didn't think I'd ever be able to embrace them or their ways. Not if I was there all year. Not if I was there till Christmas.