Thank you for downloading this free e-book. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form.
Thank you for your support.
The Dear Diary…Series is available on most e-book platforms.
Check out all the books in the Dear Diary…Series by L. M. Reed
The Eyes Have It
Dear Diary…
Finding Mrs. Wright
For Richard or Poorer
One Knight Stand
Take Your Mark
Keeping Count
Christmas Spy
And coming soon…
Judging a Book
Also, check out the Agent Jack Knight spin-off series…
Agent Jack Knight: The Beginning
Agent Jack Knight: China
And coming soon…
Agent Jack Knight: Russia
Dedication
To my wonderful mother, a shining example of a Christian woman, who in every way is the exact opposite of my main character’s mother.
Thank you for your unconditional love.
I love you.
In loving memory of my mother-in-law to whom God and family meant everything and whose life inspired a portion of my novel.
Thank you for welcoming me into your family.
I miss you!
Acknowledgements
I would like to take this opportunity to thank the three people who have helped me through the entire process of writing and publishing my book: My oldest daughter Autumn for putting together my cover and proofreading my novel over and over, my youngest daughter Michelle whose cute turn of phrase has inspired many of my best scenes and funniest lines, and my spouse Cary whose technical expertise kept my laptop running and kept me from pulling out every last hair on my head.
This novel was definitely a group effort.
Thank you!
Prologue
“That bully David Finch pulled my hair again today,” I fumed, setting my crochet needle down, unable to concentrate. “I hate him!”
“Allie,” Hannah remonstrated “You may dislike him, but hate is not a word you should use lightly.”
“But I do hate him,” I insisted wildly. “He’s always being horrible to me. The other day he stole my pencils right before our math test and after that he pushed me into a teacher and then he…”
“I think I’m beginning to get the picture,” Hannah chuckled.
“It’s not funny!”
“Allie,” Hannah rebuked me gently “junior high boys aren’t very good at telling a girl they like them…”
“Haven’t you been listening?” I screeched. “He doesn’t like me, he hates me!”
“Enough!”
Hannah was using her stern voice and I knew what that meant.
“Yes ma’am,” I said with forced meekness, still seething with resentment.
“Sometimes you have to look below the surface,” she continued in a normal tone.
“What does that mean?” I asked petulantly, but curious in spite of myself.
“Things aren’t always what they seem,” she explained patiently. “David may appear to dislike you, but I believe if you were to look deeply into his eyes you’d see that he likes you, just doesn’t know how to show it.”
“Likes me?” I echoed in amazement.
“Tomorrow I want you to confront him before he can do anything irritating and look into his eyes,” Hannah instructed firmly. “A person’s eyes tell more about them than anything else if you know how to read them.”
“How will I know how to read them?” I asked, intrigued by the thought.
“Practice,” she replied smiling. “It takes years of practice in order to do it well. You can start with David Finch tomorrow.”
“But I don’t want David Finch to like me,” I objected contrarily.
“I’m afraid that isn’t your choice,” Hannah said regretfully. “We can’t control who likes us and who doesn’t, but one of these days you will want a boy to like you.”
“How will I know when I want a boy to like me?” I asked fascinated by the subject.
“Now that is hard to explain,” Hannah smiled her secret little smile. “It is a special feeling that will be different than any other feeling you’ve ever experienced. You’ll just have to be satisfied with my promise that you will know and leave it at that.”
“Even if I do want a boy to like me, how will I know when it’s the real thing, I mean like love and marriage and all of that stuff?” I asked eagerly, a strange feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
“It will be in the eyes,” she replied softly, her own taking on a far-away look, lost in private memories. “You will just know.”