Author Maria Michaels Shares Her New Release


What happens when you move three thousand miles away but still can’t outrun the nightmare? Fleeing from haunting memories, former U.S. Marshal Jack Butler winds up next door to his biggest nightmare: an attractive widow and her troubled daughter—a teen who reminds him of a past he’s yet to make peace with. Maggie Bradshaw is struggling to raise a rebellious teen and to forgive in-laws who betrayed her in her time of greatest need…but her new neighbor is a godsend. Her daughter Lexi needs a positive influence in her life, and a law enforcement officer is the perfect choice. Unfortunately, Jack isn’t interested in helping…until a stray dog walks into all their lives. Can God use a grieving daughter and a stray dog with an ulterior motive to bring healing to all?


Maggie leaned against the front door and shut her eyes for a second, trying to get the image of her handsome neighbor out of her mind and pull it back to her wayward teen.

It used to be so much easier in the days when I could bandage a cut and make it all better with a kiss. Lord, I need  Your help.

Until today life had been calm on the home front for the past week, without any calls from Lexi’s frustrated teachers. It gave her a sense of hope that maybe the bad times were finally in the past. And now  this. Thank God it had been a big misunderstanding. She couldn’t cope with one more thing going wrong.

At the same time as she railed against her lack of freedom, Lexi constantly demonstrated why she didn’t deserve it. But, somehow, Maggie couldn’t get that across to her thirteen-year-old, no matter how hard she tried. Now she lay deep in the middle of another parenting conundrum. If she gave Lexi a key now, she’d be rewarding bad behavior.

Maggie glanced down and realized she still wore her café apron, a splatter of chocolate stains all over it.

Great first impression. He must think you’re mother of the year.

Maggie sighed. Cops should only be that good looking on television. Jack Butler had a build that showed he spent time at the gym and light brown closed-cropped hair that set off his steel blue eyes. A good thing that she’d resolved not to date until Lexi was grown, because the deputy was precisely the kind of man that made her heart skip.

Excerpt two:

He supposed this was what small town police work had brought him to. Now he somehow had to find a home for this creature. “I’ll make a few calls.”


“See that you do. There is somebody in this town who needs a dog. Surely he’s good for something.” She pursed her mouth in the mutt’s direction.


Most prospective dog owners probably wanted one that didn’t look like he’d spent the past few months living in a garbage can, but Jack promised to try. “Thanks for bringing him in.”


The mutt had parked himself near the water cooler and stared longingly at an empty box of donuts on Calhoun’s desk.


Ryan walked in from the back room and stopped in his tracks when he viewed the dog. “What is that?”


“Why, it’s a dog. Are you blind?” Mrs. Jones asked.

“That’s not a dog. That’s a walking furry garbage can.” Ryan frowned.


“If you clean him up, I bet he’ll look like a dog again,” Mrs. Jones said with a finger wag.


“That’s mighty optimistic of you, Mrs. Jones.” Ryan walked to the other side of the office, holding his nose.


“It’s under control,” Jack said.  


Surely Calhoun would take pity on the dog. Man of God and all. How could he turn this poor animal down?


When early onset stage fright dashed dreams of Rock and Roll Hall of Fame status, Maria Michaels tackled her first book in 2010, and now the people and voices that occupy her head refuse to leave.

She no longer sings unless you count randomly bursting into song to annoy her children (and the dogs).

Maria lives in northern California with her family, including two beagles, one who can say ‘hello’ and the other who can feel a pea through several pillows.


  1. Maria Michaels on January 23, 2015 at 8:05 pm

    Thanks for having me, Dana!

  2. Maria Michaels on January 23, 2015 at 8:05 pm

    Thanks for having me, Dana!

Leave a Comment