Paula (aka Marianne Dora Rose) Freda – författare

Dear sweet Evie was like a breath of fresh air. Her eyes reminded him of his mother's eyes, dark and flashing, as when she'd greeted him at the door, excited, bouncing on the tips of her toes, in an attempt to welcome him with a hug. Spontaneous, that was the word that best described her. He was never sure how to respond to spontaneous. He was like his father, in that respect. Everything planned and organized.Yes, he thought, Evie was perfect for Richard. Even her career choice would blend well with his brother's quiet, patient, see-the-goodness-in-all personality. And her spontaneity would shake his complacency and awaken his need for a keen enjoyment of life at its best. Joie_de_vivre, he thought with enthusiasm."e;Social Services is a good choice, Evie,"e; he said. Turning to his brother, "e;Don't you think, bro?"e; he asked."e;Yes, a very good choice. Especially for Evie. I remember her in high school. Always into charitable activities — collecting clothes for storm victims, or helping out with charity benefits anyway she could."e;"e;Yes, I recall,"e; Henry said. "e;In fact, you both were on the team that decorated the school hall for my senior prom. You guys did a fabulous job!"e; Memories were flooding back. "e;And didn't you take her to your senior prom, a couple of years later?"e; he asked Richard.His brother shook his head. "e;No. Not that I didn't ask her, but she had someone else in mind."e;

Paula Freda aka Marianne Dora Rose presents her "e;Inspirational Stories, Sets 1, 2, 3"e; - Clean and wholesome stories that touch the heart and the soul. True stories, autobiographical & biographical. Nostalgic, Inspirational, How-to, and some humor, along with a set of fictional inspirational stories that touch the heart and soul. Inspirational Stories - Set I (Biographical, true stories) Blonde Angel - The Giftless Xmas - My Three Fathers - The Camellia Lady - Is There More To Life Than What The Realists Claim.Inspirational Stories - Set 2(Inspirational Fiction) The Good People ... A Cup of Humanity ... A Mortal Man (Shannon & the Angel) ... The Intangible ... The Lord's CanineInspirational Stories, Set 3(Biographical, True Stories)The Way It Used To Be ... When We Were Young ... Care-Givers, Guardians of Human Dignity ... She Wore Gardenias In Her Hair ... Embarrassing Moments ... What If?(All Stories Rated "e;G"e; for General Audience)

A clean inspirational contemporary western romance novella... Driscoll's Daughter (A Sequel to "e;Driscoll's Lady) When Lexie accepted Chris' proposal, she felt no doubt. At her father's insistence they agreed to wait at least until she had finished college, especially if she planned to help Chris with his dream of one day owning a horse ranch of his own. Chris had opted for a trade and agricultural school, learning how to farm and breed horses. Perhaps if they had attended the same college, she might be Chris' wife today, but the distance and the separations, and the new world that Lexie suddenly found herself in, was too much of a distraction. Suddenly there were handsomer and smarter young men who wanted to date her, despite the engagement ring she wore. After a while she grew tired of having to flash the ring in their faces, not to mention she wanted to date them. Her world now included a much vaster realm than the two ranches and small schools in which she had grown up. On the evening of her graduation, with her parents and Chris present, she broke off her engagement and broke his heart along with it. Now, two years later, living in New York and dating Jim, her boss' son, Lexie has serious doubts about her present relationship. Faced with her mother's discerning wit, she can no longer deny the truth."e;Mom, I miss my home, the country, our way of life at the ranch, the snow-capped mountains, the wide open spaces, riding the fields, the prairies and hiking the rolling hills heavy with spruce. And I miss..."e; Lexie's voice trailing off on a pause, as though she'd stopped herself from saying more, did not escape her mother's notice. "e;And you miss...?"e; Leatrice asked gently.Lexie's eyes filled with tears, but she quickly lifted her free hand and brushed them away. "e;And,"e; she added shamefaced, "e;I miss Chris' love and caring ways. I miss the good times, and the carefree fun we shared."e; Leatrice asked, "e;Chris' love and caring ways, the good times, the carefree fun — but doesn't Jim supply that?"e; "e;Yes, but ... Oh, it's just not the same. He's not Chris,"e; she said.. "e;Not by a long run,"e; she added, falling back on a childhood idiom. "e;In other words,"e; Leatrice clarified, "e;You're still in love with Chris."e; Lexie nodded. Hearing the words from. her mother who had always understood her better than anyone, even her father, as much as he cared for her, there was no escaping the truth. She had made a terrible mistake breaking off her engagement to Chris and splitting his heart in two. He hated her now.... (Also includes first two chapters of "e;Driscoll's Lady"e;)

Paula Freda writing as Marianne Dora Rose presents a Christian light-hearted, feisty, clean, wholesome, romance novella for hearts of all ages. When Alouette, a disabled orphan, entered her life and stole her heart, Carol needed a husband in order to adopt the child. Who better to ask than ever faithful, loyal Herbert. Well, not so easy, my dear. "e;I'll think about it,"e; he told her. Not at all the reply she expected. Between his indifferent reply preceded by Evan's rejections, Carol's ego was in tatters. Served her right, Herb thought. But the thought gave him no pleasure. He loved her, faults and all. He couldn't recall a day when he didn't love her. He'd be a fool not to take advantage of this opportunity. It might be his last. As Alouette's father, Carol's affection for the child might over time extend to him. And, at last on intimate terms, tenderly, with patience, he might turn her friendship into love. EXCERPT: Carol closed her eyes, and for the first time in months, felt an unfettered sense of joy and expectation, so much so she barely felt someone settling into the empty seat beside her, until the flight attendant stopped the beverage cart at her row, and asked, "e;What would you like to drink, Miss, Sir? "e;W-what?"e; Carol opened her eyes. A man sat beside her. "e;Cat, would you like a beverage?"e; "e;Herb?!"e; She stared, gaping. "e;What the— Before she could utter a startled expletive, Herb glanced up at the flight attendant. "e;A brandy for the lady, a scotch for me, please."e; His reference to her as a lady, kept her from using the expletive in front of the flight attendant. She controlled her outburst until the woman had moved to the next row. "e;What are you doing here?"e; she exclaimed. "e;Your parents thought it best waiting to tell you I'm their choice to head their legal department at the new branch, once you and I both approve its location."e; "e;Wasn't that supposed to be my job?"e; Carol asked through clenched teeth. "e;It is,"e; Herb said, grinning. "e;You're Public Relations, and I take care of the legal details."e; "e;Oh,"e; she smiled, green eyes metaphorically flinging daggers. "e;Your father wanted the best for his over-seas branch. And we're the best in his firm."e; Carol gritted her teeth and glanced around her. All the seats were taken. For an instant she entertained the ludicrous thought of locating a parachute and jumping off the plane. She opted for leaning back, staring straight ahead tight-lipped, determined the moment she disembarked, to use her open return ticket to immediately fly back home."e; "e;Carol, look, your dislike of me aside, your father needs our expertise. For his sake, let's cooperate, do our jobs to the best of our ability, and once the new branch is running smoothly, someone else can take over for you. Carol gazed at Herb, surprised. He'd actually used her given name. And his tone sounded earnest. It was no secret how much he respected her father, and how beholden he felt for Mark employing him straight out of law school. She recognized that her parents had meant her no harm by conveniently not mentioning she would be working with Herb, realizing, had she known, she'd never have accepted the job. Carol sighed, some of her anger subsiding. "e;All right,"e; she relented. "e;For my parents' sake, and the new branch. But I'm warning you, one taunt, one tease, so help me—"e; "e;Thank you, Carol."e; He smiled pleasantly. She remembered the young boy who followed her about as she played in the garden behind the house and the grounds surrounding the estate. Sometimes, when no grownup was looking, she'd climb over the stone fence that bordered the property, and manage to part-climb, part slide down to the banks of the Hudson River. Herb was pudgy at that early age, but he stumbled persistently behind her, most of the time rolling downhill, arriving at her side, bruised and disheveled. He had the preposterous idea that she needed his protection, so much so that as she and Herb grew, her parents expected it of him. He became her chaperone.

Leatrice Meredith, tall, beautiful, self-poised, and rich, is in love with Seth Driscoll, a Montanan horse rancher of modest means. Seth's conception of eastern women is stereotyped, especially regarding wealthy, idle women. Not at all what he is looking for in a wife. Give him a woman of the land, Montanan bred. In a bizarre arrangement, Leatrice becomes his housekeeper. Seth is sure that a few weeks of work will disillusion her. But as they work together, meet obstacles, share holidays and hardships, her true character emerges. Yet proving herself may still not be enough, when she learns that Seth has already chosen a "e;woman of the land, Montanan born and bred."e; EXCERPT: ...On the landing at the bottom of the stairs Leatrice paused. The door to her study was open. Seth Driscoll stood waiting, turned slightly toward the French doors. His sandy-colored hair was ruffled as though he had run a nervous hand through it. His grey-green eyes were pensive and fixed on the outline of snow-capped mountains in the distance. His lips were pressed together, his square jaw tight, raised as if in anticipation not to his liking. The front of his lambskin shearling coat was open, revealing a wide, trunk neck above the plaid shirt that was tucked-in haphazardly into his heavy-weight denims, as though he'd dressed more for comfort and necessity than looks. He held his battered Stetson at his side, the curled brim clenched tightly in his large, sun-tanned fist. His feet in heavy dusty riding boots were set slightly apart as if at any moment he might open the French doors and stride out. But it was not the vast pastures shading to soft fawn with the coming of winter, or the snow-capped mountains shrouded in pale blue mist that Driscoll saw as he gazed out the French doors, but the records at the courthouse proving Leatrice's claim. The present clerk could find no copy of a bill of sale from the previous owner of the Bar LB for the five thousand acres known as the Triple R Division. The deed Seth and his lawyer had accepted as valid at the time of the sale had been forged. Leatrice was the current owner of the Bar LB; consequently, his land now belonged to her. Everything he had worked for, his security for the future, his one hold on life, had all been for nothing. Upstairs that scheming she-devil must be congratulating herself for having dropped the ground from under him. Seth loved the land he rode daily, as his father had loved it before him. He had scraped and saved from the pittance paid for cattle doctorin' and punchin', fixin' fences, and occasionally rodeoing, and he achieved his goal. He bought the Triple R, five thousand acres of lush grassland, buttes and rising hills. He began with four broodmares and a stallion. Fifteen years later his horse count numbered in the hundreds, pure breed quarter horses that cattle ranchers who could not afford to raise their own remudas for rounding up cattle, or simply horsemen in need of sturdy steeds, bought at top dollar and praised highly. A tingling sensation in the nape of his neck made him turn. Leatrice had entered the room. It was the same each time he saw her, the gut feeling that he wanted her. He had to pull hard on the reins to keep from succumbing. She was too tall for a woman, too broad of shoulder, too intelligent and shrewd, too rich and used to getting her own way, too presumptuous and arrogant for a female according to his book. A usurper, a schemer, an Easterner coming to his country a year and a half-ago not knowing a heifer from a steer, or a stallion from a gelding. He was glad of the added height nature had bequeath him. It gave him the advantage of looking down at Leatrice, of being able to withstand the rock hardness, the authoritative and indomitable pull of those blue eyes. They would fell a lesser man. Alone in the study, Seth and Leatrice faced each other, neither sure of where to begin....

A Christian, clean and wholesome paranormal fantasy romance,EXCERPTS - (Laura) ... The moon had reached its apex, bleaching the sand below it the palest shade of silver. White-capped waves rushed to shore, curling over it, tempting the waterlogged grains of sand to follow them back into the sea. Jace stood a few inches shy of the waves, his gaze trained on the horizon where the water joined with the sky and the stars. He waited. He knew she would appear soon, on the edge of the sea, her form opalescent, cloaked in mist, surreal, an illusion or a vision, whichever he chose to believe. Even as he thought about her, a hazy distortion formed, the size of a thumbprint, growing larger and clearer. She floated toward the shore, toward him. The alarm clock buzzed. Laura opened her eyes. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, gliding across the room, warming it. Laura stretched under the comforter and yawned sleepily.(Stephen) ... In a black and white tuxedo he stood on the top of a precipice that dropped sharply to the rocks below. Riled foamy ocean waves rolled over the rocks and crashed against the base of the cliff. Stephen's arms closed about his lover. Her simple pale blue dress was cool to his touch. Above him the sky was overcast. A storm was brewing. In the distance an eighteenth century ship with tall masts and billowing sails waited for his return to hoist anchor. Pandora raised her dark eyes and gazed hopelessly into his own. "e;I will die for you!"e; she cried. "e;I will end your torment. The Flying Dutchman will cease his wanderings. Heaven will grant us entry. I give my life for yours."e; "e;No!"e; Stephen cried as he tried to hold her, but she moved quickly over the edge. "e;No!"e; he screamed, reaching to catch her. "e;Pandora . . .!"e; She hurtled to the rocks below, silently. He gazed up at the dark clouds, past them to heaven. "e;No, not this way. Give her back her life. Wipe away my existence from her memory. I will not free myself of the curse by her death."e; He closed his eyes and stepped over the edge. He was not afraid, for he had died centuries ago. He remembered for the millionth time his death, one justly deserved, at the hands of his own men, the sailors he drove mercilessly in fair weather and ill, to out-sail other traders. His ship was known as the fastest on the trade route, his wares the most exotic. He was said to be the richest merchant of his era, and the cruelest. And so he was cursed to wander the seas until he had learned to love. The curse would last until he could be loved in such measure that his beloved would be willing to give her life for him. Cursed until he could experience the pain of loss, the same pain he had caused many a wife awaiting her sailor who would never return because of him. He opened his eyes and he was back on the ship. Already the anchor was rising, the rusting chains grating and scratching against the wooden hull. He nodded to the invisible crew, the souls of men condemned for similar transgressions, condemned to wander the seas for all eternity. And then he saw her. She waited on the deck above his quarters, her hair dark and long, wind tossed behind her. He ran up the steps. "e;No, Pandora. They can't condemn you as well. Yours was a selfless act."e; She did not answer immediately, but turned and pointed. In the distance a light shown, so bright that it obliterated the sea and the clouds. The light radiated and then prism and enveloped the ship, dissipating the chill, warm and welcoming. Music, soft yet triumphant and pleasing, accompanied by an angelic voice, filled the light. Pandora slid her arm about Stephen's waist and smiled at him. "e;You are free, my love."e; The alarm clock buzzed and Stephen stirred, waking reluctantly, the feel of Pandora in his arms lingering so that he had to look to remind himself he had been dreaming again.

Paula Freda aka Marianne Dora Rose presents THE HEART CALLETH (A Christian, clean and wholesome novella with drama, romance, adventure, and science fiction.) ... Cosmic dust from a supernova explosion millions of light years away, finally reaches our galaxy and collides with our sun. The impact of the collision is so fierce that it increases the explosions in our sun to the degree of causing intense solar flares to radiate toward earth, causing apocalyptic devastation. As the earth heals, Sandra Kile marries the man of her dreams, knowing full well that his heart still belongs to his first wife, Laura, whom he adored, but who died during one of the resulting earthquakes. For fifteen years Sandra has believed herself at "e;heaven's gates."e; Her life has been filled with her husband's respect and caring, five beloved children, and a simple, fulfilling, if hardworking life as a farmer's wife, until the morning when she answers the door and Laura stands before her....

Ever wonder what happened to Macey, (Linda and Tanner's wild, mischievous daughter), who had her eye on Chris, who loved "e;Driscoll's Daughter,"e; Lexie?  Find out, in Paula Freda (writing as Marianne Dora Rose)'s fourth volume of the Driscoll Saga, "e;Wild Yellow Clover and Honey Wheat Sage."e;Tanner and Linda hoped that their daughter had finally learned her lesson, when  because of her ill-placed stubbornness, she was almost killed in a cave-in. Morally at heart, Macey is a decent girl, when steered in the right direction, away from her wild side, sweet as clover and as potentially toxic. Nearing her twenty-first birthday, her habit of developing unrequited crushes has taken its toll.  She has been fortunate the groups she hung with were decent young people. No one regarded her seriously, or took advantage of her vulnerability.  Macey was pretty, blonde, slender, with attractive curves. But she distanced prospective suitors with her flirtatious over anxiousness to form a relationship the moment she met someone who fit her idea of the perfect hero and offered her a friendly smile. The few who fell for her first, but did not fit her view of the perfect physical specimen, she steered away from, or with the utmost kindness, firmly rejected them, even Cal, the Driscolls' younger son, a fine young man, and new foreman on their ranch.Cal saw past the silky blonde hair, the pretty face and slender form, and the curves, and the ill-placed stubbornness.  He saw into her heart, morally and intrinsically kind.  She just had not figured out where she fit in.  He wished it was in his arms, but she didn't want him.  If he'd been as handsome as his older brother, Tom, and as smart, teaching History at Montana Tech, she'd be his wife by now. But, no matter, he thought.. The Driscoll stubbornness ran in his veins. He would protect her, appreciated or not, at least until she found someone who saw her as he did, and captured her heart...

The Consequential Heart, by Paula Freda aka Marianne Dora Rose. A Novella (Clean Romance, Suspense Murder Mystery)There was a time JoAnn felt Jim was attracted to her, before he met Lexie, but Lexie broke his heart and married someone else. Was there the least bit of chance, JoAnn pondered wistfully, that she might replace his lost love and capture and mend his broken heart? The way to his heart was clear. But he would first have to open its door and let her in. Excerpt: ...Jim and Harold's law firm often represented the embezzled corporation in legal suits. JoAnn and both lawyers and their secretaries were called to the precinct to represent the firm after E.J. Stanton, the company's president, discovered and reported to the authorities a $100,000 dollar unexplained deficit, and accused Alliston, the bookkeeper, of embezzlement, but Jim felt Stanton's evidence against Alliston was dubious and decided to represent the accused Treasurer. No such money was found deposited into any account relating to Alliston's personal finances. The man swore he was innocent. But he was the most likely suspect since he handled all the company's finances. Jim hired a P.I. to investigate. Although the P.I. found no authentic proof that would stand up in court, he did lead Jim to form certain conclusions about who might have been the actual embezzler."e;And you remember who I mentioned in my notes,"e; Jim whispered. "e;Yes, I do."e; JoAnn answered. "e;But those suspicions were never made public."e;"e;Nevertheless, my office was broken into and files searched. Nothing was discovered missing except the file I carried with me in my briefcase."e;"e;Alliston's,"e; JoAnn said, shakily."e; Jim nodded. "e;We are all in danger, aren't we?"e; JoAnn said."e;Yes we are,"e; Jim said. "e;There's already been one murder committed relative to this case."e;....