Copyright © 2008, Jan C. Minter
Published by Whiskey Creek Press LLC

Reviews For CATCH A FALLING STAR by Jan C. Minter

5 Stars! Contemporary/historical romance “In Catch A Falling Star, shortly before his grandmother’s death, Josh returns to his home town of Star. On her death bed, his grandmother had two requests: help Star and finish the heirloom quilt. He turns to Anabelle for help with the quilt. As Anabelle touched the pieces of used fabric, the life of Great Great Grandmother Helen came to life. The hardships of her life, determination, and love were all sewn into the quilt blocks. Josh began to realize that he was more than attracted to Anabelle; he was falling in love with her. Jan Minter has taken threads of the civil war era and threads of a contemporary romance and woven them together into an enchanting fable. I did notice that Catch A Falling Star stills needs more editing. The tale is well developed and caught my attention from the first chapter. The characters came to life and were important to me. As a quilter, I was fascinated with the crazy quilt and the way it held the history of Helen’s life. Fans of romance will enjoy Catch A Falling Star.– Reviewed by Reviewyourbook.com

Anabelle’s hands were on the last piece at the end of the row. She lifted her hands and shook her head. Sheepishly, she looked up at Josh like she was coming out of a long sleep. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“If you mean I lost you for a while, yes, you did it again. Anabelle you must be just grieving. Maybe you’d better stop doing that. I mean, the story is interesting and all that, but…”

“I can’t help it, Josh. It just comes. Don’t worry about me. So far I haven’t committed any crime nor hurt anyone. Doctors don’t have an answer for it, so just let it be, okay?”

Josh wasn’t so sure. He did worry, not so sure about all this woogie-woogie business. He’d never believed in it before. A sudden cold wind bristled through the room.

“See there,” Anabelle held up her hands to it. “I’m sure that’s Ms. Mildred’s approval for what happens.”

Josh pulled his shirt collar up around his neck. “Okay, if you say so,” he said in unconvinced agreement. “But promise me you won’t touch a new rolled section of the quilt unless I’m here with you.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got an idea. Let’s have Marie pack our lunch and let me take you to see some of my favorite places on the estate.”

“I ought to go help Ethel at the shop.”

“I heard you put in double overtime with your classes while I was gone. Take a break. Do you swim?”

“Yes, I love to swim.”

“Pack your swimsuit. I have to make a phone call and talk to Marie. Put on your sun screen and wear a hat. I plan to take you out in the sunshine. You’re going to see some of my all time secret hiding places.”

Anabelle went to her room to pack her swimsuit. She knew she ought not to give in to an afternoon with Josh. She shouldn’t be around him in a social situation. She didn’t half trust herself to be close to him. But swimming! She hadn’t been swimming in ages. The temptation was too great.

About an hour later, Josh answered the front door bell and came back into the kitchen with a set of keys dangling from one finger.

“Your chariot awaits,” he declared like an English servant, bowing at the waist.

Anabelle’s chariot turned out to be a large shiny-red, all-terrain four-wheeler. She did a double take and turned in dismay to Josh.

“Oh, Josh, I don’t know whether I’m up to this.”

“Oh come on, don’t be a stick in the mud.”

“I’ve never ridden on one of those.”

“Nothing to it. Later, I’ll even teach you to drive it. But until then, you just get on behind me and hang on. I promise not to hit too-o-o many bumps and I won’t go too-o-o fast,” he said with a tone of voice and a mischievous smirk that belied his words.

“Should I trust you? I’m not much of a bronc rider.”

“Trust me completely.” He stashed Marie’s picnic basket, their swim suits bundled in towels, an old blanket and a length of rope on the rack on the back of the machine. He straddled the seat, turned the key and started the motor, which roared to life.

“Hop on.”

She covered her ears to soften the motor’s noise.

“Come on. Don’t be a sissy. Climb on in back of me.”

She did, reluctantly. He took her arms and wrapped them around him. What have I gotten myself into? Riding astraddle, snuggled up to him, my arms around him! I was going to be distant and professional with him. What happened to my good intentions?

Josh didn’t follow the driveway or any road, but struck out cross-country.

“Promise you won’t go fast enough to blow off my hat, now.” Anabelle was still skeptical, afraid he might want to pull some antics with her.

“A car won’t go where I want to go and I don’t have a horse.”

After a few minutes, Anabelle relaxed enough to enjoy the scenery. East Texas in the middle of June was lovely. The woods were full of pink mimosa trees in full feathery blossom, all the trees and bushes a deep, dark green.

“My first favorite place is on the backside of the lake, a swimming hole.”

She could see the blue of the lake in the distance. “What are you going to do with the rope? Lasso some cattle?”

“You’ll see.”

After a while he drove into a tree enclosed glen. A deep blue pool of water shimmered in the early summer sunlight. It was connected to the larger lake with a manmade canal. Josh parked the four-wheeler under a huge oak tree. He helped Anabelle to get off and they walked to the edge of the water.

“This was a gravel pit. The gravel on the driveways at the big house came from here. They dug so deep, they hit springs and the gravel pit filled up. My dad had the canal dug to help feed the lake with fresh water. This hole is about thirty feet deep and the best swimming hole in the world.”

Anabelle heard the nostalgia in his voice. She had to agree that it would be any boy’s favorite place.

“You get on your suit and I’ll have a surprise.”

She went behind some nearby bushes and quickly changed into her demure, black one-piece swimsuit. When she returned she didn’t see Josh anywhere.

“Look at what you’ve been hiding under those tent dresses!” He wolf whistled. Anabelle located Josh dressed in brief plaid trunks perched up in the huge oak tree. Its branches extended out over the pool. He straddled a fat limb about ten feet out. He had tied one end of the rope around it. When he had finished making a large knot on the other end of the rope, he threw it toward her. “Here, catch.”

She caught it.

“Now back up about ten feet.” She walked up the embankment as he instructed and turned to face him.

“Now run toward the water and swing out on the rope. When you get as far as the rope will go, let loose and fall in.”

“You’re kidding. No way!”

“Try it. You’ll like it.”

Anabelle had heard of kids doing this. No doubt, as a child, he had at this very place. But they were hardly children now.

“This is childish.”

“Sure is. Loosen the bone, Wilma! Let yourself go and at least try it one time. You might even have fun.”

Anabelle had a feeling this was his idea of revenge. After all, she’d made him do a lot of new things. She never could resist a dare. Might as well give him a laugh or two.

Getting a firm grasp on the rope, she ran down the incline. Suddenly the earth below her vanished. She flew out over the water, but when time came for her to let go, she froze. The water looked a long way below her. She clutched tighter and came swinging back toward shore. She landed safely in a very unladylike heap. Josh laughed heartily.

“Try again. Let go when you get the farthest from shore.”

Not to be bested, she backed up the bank again and ran at the water, her teeth clenched in determination. He was right. The swinging was fun. I’ll let go, I’ll let go, she told herself mentally. She did, flying loose through the air. She hit the water with a huge splash.

Shock! The water was frigid. She went deep, but quickly pushed toward the surface. She broke through to air, her body covered with chill bumps, shivering in the water.

“You ass! You didn’t warn me the water was so co-o-o-ld,” she said through chattering teeth.

He laughed heartily at her. “I did too. I told you the pool was spring fed. Any ninny knows that spring water is cold.”

“Not at Yellowstone, it isn’t,” she mumbled, stroking back to shore. By the time she reached the bank, however, her body had already acclimated to the temperature of the water.

“Your turn.”

He descended from the tree, bringing the rope with him. “It’s the duty of the one left on the bank to catch the rope after I fall off, so I don’t have to climb the tree to get it. Okay?” She nodded.

He backed up the bank and ran full speed. When he became airborne, he let out a Tarzan yell that would have put Johnny Weismuller to shame. Anabelle noticed Josh’s body would also rival the star’s. He let go and splashed into the water. Anabelle made sure she caught the rope as it swung back toward her. Josh’s head and torso burst the surface like a dolphin.

“Wow! I’d forgotten just what a charge that was.”

They both tried the flight a few more times, then settled down to swim a while, most of the time just treading water while they chatted.

“I’m hungry. How about you?”

“I could eat.” Anabelle emerged from the water. “I’ll be dressed in a minute.”

“Don’t bother to dress. Just get your clothes and come on. I have a special place for our picnic.” While she bundled up her clothes in her towel, she heard Josh fire up the four-wheeler. “Come one, Slow Poke.”

She stashed her pack in the wire holder and climbed aboard behind him again. Bad move, Lucille. If she thought it was intimate before, this took the cake. Now, her arms clasped his bare skinned torso. Her legs were nestled right behind his where they rubbed with erotic friction. He drove faster this time, making her hold tighter.

When they started up a long extended hill, she had to shift her weight forward, making her whole body flush with his back. She wished he were just her brother or anybody else. Anyone, but him.

Driving through a thicket of tall-as-the-sky pine trees, he stopped just short of the top of a hill. “I want to walk the rest of the way.” They walked along the summit, a pine covered ridge. Reaching the other side of the hill, he plunked down in a field of clover, pulling her down to sit beside him. He drew a deep sigh.

“Just look at that, will you? Isn’t that beautiful?”

It was. Before them, in a breathtaking panoramic landscape, she could see for miles, including the whole outline of the large lake. In the distance on the other side of the lake, cars, which looked the size of match boxes, whizzed by on Interstate 20. The hill was so high, she knew how eagles saw the land. At the bottom of the hill, a creek bubbled through the valley.

He sighed again. “I’ve always planned to build my someday house right here.”

They sat there quietly for a few minutes in the sunshine, a gentle breeze drying their hair.

“I’ve worked on my house plans for years. The front of the house will be up there, one story toward the north. The back of the house, on this incline, will be two stories. The whole side of the back will be black glass with a porch below and a deck above. I’ve finished the plans, finally satisfied that every room except the living room and formal dining room will have this view.”

Anabelle listened, enchanted not only by his plans, but his love of the site, his longing for his own home on this beautiful hill. Soon, she was not hearing his more detailed explanation of the materials he’d use, but just watching his handsome face, so excited in his talk about his dream house. She’d give most anything if he’d remain here and build it and went so far as to fantasize herself included in his plans.

“When I was a boy, I even mapped it out to put a rope swing in that tree. Think how high you’d be swinging out over this hill. It’d feel like flying. Maybe someday my kids will enjoy it.”

Anabelle couldn’t squelch an unbridled wish the children he spoke of would be hers, too.

He broke the spell by abruptly jumping up. “Well, let’s eat.”

He spread the old blanket under the tree where they could still take in the marvelous view. Marie had outdone herself as usual with the delectable meal. When they were done, Anabelle put the leftovers in the basket and joined Josh. He lay on the blanket, his hands behind his head as a pillow. She lay down beside him and looked up to the puffy white clouds dotting the blue sky.

“It’s just so peaceful here.” His words were filled with awe.

Anabelle, tired from her swim, filled by the food, relaxed and drowsy, agreed. She drifted away into sleep. Her dreams were sweet with a babe in her arms and Josh bent over to see it.

Something tickled. Half asleep, her eyes still shut, she tried to flick it away. Whatever it was persisted. She didn’t want to wake up and give up her dream. Finally, she opened her eyes to see Josh’s face only inches from hers. He was tickling her nose with a blade of grass.

“Better wake up.”

She moaned.

“Do you know you have freckles on your shoulders, too?” With one finger, he moved the strap of her bathing suit over. She shivered with the sensation, his touch warming her more than the sun.

“Yes. Aren’t they awful?”

“On the contrary. I like them. Especially the ones on your nose.” His face was so near. He touched his lips to hers so softly, a mere whisper of a touch. Her response was immediate, sending waves of tantalizing enticement through her body. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she silently asked for more. He deepened the kiss, drawing her closer until their bodies met full length. His hand covered her breast. When the kiss neared its conclusion, he rose a bit.

“You are so beautiful, so fair.” He gently slipped a strap off her shoulder, exposing her breast. “So lovely,” he murmured. He cupped one and lowered his head to kiss the other. Electricity! The sensation of his touch set her on fire. Her hands had a life of their own, exploring his chest, his neck, the muscles of his back. He suckled her while his hand moved lower. He caressed her hip and moved on. Startled, she felt him push aside the crotch of her suit and fondle her. His touch turned to a gentle stroking, making her tense with anticipation. He watched her. Her passion rose. She arched toward his hand, wanting more. He gave it to her, bringing her to a climax. The sensation of it bubbled through her body bringing heaven on earth, a heavenly earthquake.

He raked off his trunks and stripped her suit down her body. Spreading her legs, he lowered himself to her and plunged in, his entrance relief to her, she felt filled, satisfied.

“Oh, Josh.”

“I didn’t ask. Should I have?”

“This shouldn’t happen,” she murmured, but her actions denied her words. Her body involuntarily issued ancient ways of invitation to his.

“I know,” he replied. “We can’t do this,” but he pushed further for even more penetration. While verbally denying they wanted one another, their bodies danced together in the age old act of joining, unconcerned with any reasoning that would keep them apart. Together they flew to the heights of greatest pleasure.

He rolled away, bringing her with him.

“Are we surprised?”

“I swore we wouldn’t come to this.”

“Are you sorry?”

“Only that is over.”

“Doesn’t have to be.”

“Promise?”

He began to fondle her again. Finally, he rolled to his back and pulled her to mount him. With his hands on her hips and her guidance, he entered her. She rode him, celebrating her power, luxuriating in the passion, basking in sensations she’d only dreamed of.

With a squeal quite unlike her, she collapsed on him, weakened by the intensity of her climax, feeling with heightened sensitivity his engorged member’s spasms of his consummate fulfillment inside her.

“Like I said before, look what you’ve been hiding under those tents of yours. Woman, you are fantastic.”

Anabelle didn’t want to be only fantastic. She wanted to be loved. She longed for words of endearment, words of commitment, words that told her he returned her love for him. She’d broken her promise to herself that she wouldn’t yield to passion and let herself become physically involved with him, but she couldn’t say she was sorry. She couldn’t deny she enjoyed every second of it.

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