She’s finally healing with the help of God and the wonderful community she’s found in South Dakota. She has a servants heart and loves the work and volunteering she’s done while trying to forgive herself for her mistakes.
But, now he’s here and his tyranny is going to destroy the little bit of self-confidence and self-worth she’s managed to build.
But still, they are married in the eyes of God… does that mean she must submit to her husband?
What I liked: I thoroughly devoured The Bossy Bridegroom. It’s a fun read but it’s quite deep and profound. I think that this book not only shows us how important or wedding vows are but also the lines that can be crossed so very easily – for both husbands and wives.
What I didn’t like: My only concern with this book is that someone would mistake the intent of this book and stay when they should leave or visa versa.
|Source:||Purchased September 5, 2012 for $2|
|Setting:||Black Hills, South Dakota|
|This Counts for these Challenges:||2015 Let Me Count The Ways Reading Challenge, 2015 TBR Pile Challenge, 2015 Just for Fun Reading Challenge, 2015 What’s In A Name Reading Challenge (A familial relation), 2015 Contemporary Romance Reading Challenge, 2015 Women Challenge, 2015 Full House Reading Challenge, Reading Road Trip 2015 Challenge, Monthly Mix-up Mania, 2014 Alphabet Soup Reading Challenge|
|Series:||Black Hills Blessing Book 3|
As a new bride I marched straight out of journalism school and into the kitchen, I did a lot of scribbling. I still have those heartbreaking works of staggering genius, Ode to Roast Beef, things like that, all born out of the ‘Write What You Know’ school of literature.
I began writing more seriously when my baby went to kindergarten. Not writing well of course, but just putting words on paper. No one does anything well the first time. I’m sure Babe Ruth missed the first ball pitched to him. I’m sure Picasso smeared pages with paint-y fingers when he was a kid—as I remember he went back to that later in life. I’m sure Beethoven played the eighteenth-century version of Chopsticks before went for the sonatas.
My writing journey is similar to a lot of others. Boil it down to persistence, oh, go ahead and call it stubbornness. I just kept typing away. I think the reason I did it was because I’m more or less a dunce around people—prone to sit silently when I really ought to speak up(or far worse, speak up when I ought to sit silently).
So, I have all these things, I want to say, in my head; the perfect zinger to the rude cashier, which you think of an hour after you’ve left the store, the perfect bit of wisdom when someone needs help, which doesn’t occur to you until they solve their problems themselves, the perfect guilt trip for the kids, which you don’t say because you’re not an idiot. I keep all this wit to myself, much to the relief of all who know me, and then I write all my great ideas into books. It’s therapeutic if nothing else, and more affordable than a psychiatrist.
So then a very nice, oh so nice publishing company like Barbour Heartsong comes along and says, “Hey, we’ll pay you money for this 45,000-word therapy session.” That’s as sweet as it gets.
My journey to publication is the same as everyone’s except for a few geniuses out there who make it hard for all of us. And even they probably have an Ode to Roast Beef or two in their past.
image & info from Goodreads
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