Monday, December 9, 2013

Faith House by Robin Patchen

Here we go again, more, more, more Christmas stories!

Today we have Faith House by Robin Patchen. Come check it out!

Back cover:

When Hurricane Sandy destroys Sadie’s home, she’s determined to restore it. She promised her dying grandmother she’d never abandon the house that is the only link to Sadie’s schizophrenic father—a man who disappeared twenty years ago.

Max has loved Sadie since grade school, but their mutual friend died when they were teens. A decade has passed, and he’s finally found her. This time, he won’t lose her—not to a flooded house hundreds of miles from home, or to her false hope as she awaits her father’s unlikely return.

When Sadie discovers her house is underinsured, she faces an impossible decision. Can she trust God enough to let go of her only connection to her dad? Can she trust Max enough to let go of her heart?


Sadie slid off the wool coat and draped it over a desk chair she’d carried from her bedroom upstairs. It was the only piece of furniture on the first floor. She left her leather gloves on, grabbed a trash bag, and sat in front of the built-in breakfront in the kitchen. After a deep breath, she opened the bottom doors. Sand and mud and broken pieces of her grandmother’s life toppled out at her knees. Grandma had kept this crystal for special occasions that never came. 

Well, Hurricane Sandy was certainly special.

For the first time, Sadie felt grateful that her grandmother was no longer living. Seeing her house like this would have broken Grandma’s heart. As Sadie picked through the pieces and dumped them into the bag, she blinked back tears again. She had to be strong. She couldn’t think about Grandma and Dad and all she’d lost. All she would still lose if she didn’t hold it together.

A knock startled her. “Coming,” she said, scooping the last of the crystal into the trash bag and wiping the sand and mud from her jeans. 

It had to be the contractor. She’d expected him at nine. But when she swung the door open, a tall man greeted her with a crooked smile. 


Her breath caught as she took in the vision, just before she launched herself into his arms. “Max. What are you doing here?” 

He wrapped his arms around her back and squeezed. “Came to see you, of course.”

She stepped back. “Wow, you look great.” 

He wore a gray pinstriped suit, a royal blue shirt, and matching tie, as out of place on her damaged front porch as a Renoir in a crack house.

“Thanks. You look beautiful, as always.”

She looked down at her sandy jeans, her stained sweatshirt, and her worn leather gloves. “Right.” 

“You do. The clothes, not so much. But you...”

Sadie pulled off the gloves and shoved them in her back pocket. “Enter at your own risk.”

Max stepped into her house and whistled softly. “Thank God you evacuated.”

“I guess you talked to my mom.”

“I didn’t have your number, so I called her the night it hit.” He looked up the stairs to the second floor, and then entered the living room. His words came out slowly and echoed off the two-by-fours. “She said you’d promised to evacuate. I mean, I knew it was bad, but...” He moved forward, the sound of his footsteps gritty on the sub-floor in spite of all the sweeping she’d done. He rotated, looked at what used to be her walls, the debris she hadn’t removed yet. “I didn’t expect the smell.”

“You get used to it.”


“No, not really. I thought when I got the carpet out of here, but...” She indicated the bare floor with a flip of her hand. 

“It’ll take time.”


“Are you here every day?”

“I try to come for a few hours. It’s hard to work very long, though. It’s so cold.”

With the mention of the cold, he rubbed his hands together. “I can imagine. At my hotel in Manhattan, you’d hardly know the storm hit. It’s all decked out for the holidays—typical New York City extravagance.”

The holidays. She closed her eyes, pictured the house as her grandmother had decorated it the December before she’d died. The Christmas tree always stood in front of the picture window, covered in homemade ornaments, some of which dated back to her dad’s childhood. 

Grandma had kept the most beautiful star—not one of those flat things that only looked like a star from the front, but one that had points in every direction, so no matter where she stood in the room, the star looked beautiful. 

Sadie could still remember her father lifting her up to set that star on the tree when she was a little girl. The Christmas decorations had been stored in the basement and were destroyed in the flood. She’d never see that star again.

Merry Christmas.


Oh my goodness, what a sweet story. Before you're done the first few pages you'll just want to wrap your arms around Sadie and hold her until everything's alright. And that's just what Max wants to do if she'll only let him, but Sadie is, well, as stubborn as the best of us. But Max is definitely the man for the job and you just want to cheer for him each time he inches a little closer.

This is a very sweet quick read. If you love feeling the real Christmas spirit leap off the pages then this is the one for you! It's all about faith!

Buy Link:


  1. Thank you, Donna, for the spotlight on your blog and kind review. It's an honor to have Faith House here.

  2. Faith House is an amazing story! A must-read for Christmas!

  3. Fun to have an excerpt for folk to read, Robin!