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Angels are all around us—especially at Christmas!
Greg Bennett hates Christmas. Divorced, almost friendless and about to lose his business, he has no time for what he considers sentimental nonsense. It takes three irrepressible angels to show him the truth. Shirley, Goodness and Mercy shall follow him—until he learns what Christmas is all about!
Those Christmas Angels come down to earth again to respond to Anne Fletcher's prayer request. She wants her son, Roy, to meet a special woman—and the angels contrive to throw Julie Wilcoff in his path (literally!).
Another Christmas, another angelic rescue. The three heaven-sent messengers reunite a divorced couple, bring peace of mind to an elderly man and grant a little boy's fondest wish. Because there's always joy Where Angels Go.
Three stories of hope and seasonal cheer from Debbie Macomber, Official Storyteller of Christmas!
- Sales Rank: #161569 in Books
- Brand: Debbie Macomber
- Published on: 2014-09-30
- Released on: 2014-09-30
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 8.21" h x 1.38" w x 5.25" l, 1.20 pounds
- Binding: Paperback
- 544 pages
Review
"Call Me Mrs. Miracle is an entertaining holiday story that will surely touch the heart... Best of all, readers will rediscover the magic of Christmas."-Bookreporter.com
There's Something About Christmas is "a tale of romance in the lives of ordinary people, with a message that life is like a fruitcake: full of unexpected delights."-Publishers Weekly
"Macomber once again demonstrates her impressive skills with characterization and her flair for humor." -RT Book Reviews on When Christmas Comes
When Christmas Comes "is a sweetly satisfying, gently humorous story that celebrates the joy and love of the holiday season."-Booklist
"THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT CHRISTMAS is a wonderfully funny, and at times heart-wrenching story of finding the right person to love at the most delightful time of year." -Times Record News, Wichita Falls, TX
About the Author
Debbie Macomber, with more than 100 million copies of her books sold worldwide, is one of today's most popular authors. The #1 New York Times bestselling author is best known for her ability to create compelling characters and bring their stories to life in her books. Debbie is a regular resident on numerous bestseller lists, including the New York Times (70 times and counting), USA TODAY (currently 67 times) and Publishers Weekly (47 times). Visit her at www.DebbieMacomber.com.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Greg Bennett had always hated Christmas.
He'd never believed in "goodwill toward men" and all that other sentimental garbage. Christmas in the city—any city—was the epitome of commercialism, and San Francisco was no exception. Here it was, barely December, and department-store windows had been filled with automated elves and tinsel-hung Christmas trees since before Thanksgiving!
Most annoying, in Greg's opinion, was the hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers, all of whom seemed to be unnaturally cheerful. That only made his own mood worse.
He wouldn't be in the city at all if he wasn't desperately in need of a bank loan. Without it, he'd be forced to lay off what remained of his crew by the end of the year. He'd have to close the winery's doors. His vines—and literally decades of work—had been wiped out by fan leaf disease, devastating the future of his vineyard and crippling him financially.
He'd spent the morning visiting one financial institution after another. Like a number of other growers, he'd applied at the small-town banks in the Napa Valley and been unsuccessful. His wasn't the only vineyard destroyed by the disease—although, for reasons no one really understood, certain vineyards had been spared the blight. For a while there'd been talk of low-interest loans from the federal government, but they hadn't materialized. Apparently the ruin hadn't been thorough enough to warrant financial assistance. For Greg that news definitely fell into the category of cold comfort.
It left him in a dilemma. No loan—no replanted vines. Without the vines there would be no grapes, without the grapes, no wine, and without the winery, no Gregory Bennett.
What he needed after a morning such as this, he decided, was a good stiff drink and the company of a charming female companion, someone who could help him forget his current troubles. He walked into the St. Francis, the elegant San Francisco hotel, and found himself facing a twenty-foot Christmas tree decorated with huge gold balls and plush red velvet bows. Disgusted, he looked away and hurried toward the bar.
The bartender seemed to sense his urgency. "What can I get you?" he asked promptly. He wore a name tag that identified him as Don.
Greg sat down on a stool. "Get me a martini," he said. If it hadn't been so early in the day, he would have asked for a double, but it was barely noon and he still had to drive home. He didn't feel any compelling reason to return. The house, along with everything else in his life, was empty. Oh, the furniture was all there—Tess hadn't taken that—but he was alone, more alone than he could ever remember being.
Tess, his third and greediest wife, had left him six months earlier. The attorneys were fighting out the details of their divorce, and at three hundred dollars an hour, neither lawyer had much incentive to rush into court.
Nevertheless, Tess was gone. He silently toasted eliminating her from his life and vowed not to make the mistake of marrying again. Three wives was surely sufficient evidence that he wasn't the stay-married kind.
Yet he missed Tess, he mused with some regret—and surprise. Well, maybe not Tess exactly, but a warm body in his bed. By his side. Even at the time, he'd known it was foolish to marry her. He certainly should have known, after the messy end of his second marriage. His first had lasted ten years, and he'd split with Jacquie over… Hell if he could remember. Something stupid. It'd always been something stupid.
"You out shopping?" Don the bartender asked as he delivered a bowl of peanuts.
Greg snorted. "Not on your life."
The younger man smiled knowingly. "Ah, you're one of those."
"You mean someone who's got common sense. What is it with people and Christmas? Normal, sane human beings become sentimental idiots." A year ago, when he and Tess had been married less than eighteen months, she'd made it clear she expected diamonds for Christmas. Lots of them. She'd wanted him to make her the envy of her friends. That was what he got for marrying a woman nineteen years his junior. A pretty blonde with a figure that could stop traffic. Next time around he'd simply move the woman into his house and send her packing when he grew bored with her. No more marriages—not for him. He didn't need any more legal entanglements.
Just then a blond beauty entered the bar, and Greg did a double take. For half a heartbeat, he thought it was Tess. Thankfully he was wrong. Blond, beautiful and probably a bitch. The last part didn't bother him, though—especially now, when he could use a little distraction. He'd be sixty-one his next birthday, but he was trim and fit, and still had all his hair—gone mostly gray, what people called "distinguished." In fact, he could easily pass for ten years younger. His good looks had taken him a long way in this world, and he'd worked hard to maintain a youthful appearance.
"Welcome," he greeted her, swerving around on his stool to give her his full attention.
"Hello."
Her answering smile told him she wasn't averse to his company. Yes, she might well provide a distraction. If everything worked out, he might stay in town overnight. Considering the morning he'd had, he deserved a little comfort. He wasn't interested in anything serious—just a light flirtation to take his mind off his troubles, a dalliance to momentarily distract him.
"Are you meeting someone?" Greg asked.
"Not really," she said, her voice sultry and deep.
Greg noted the packages. "Been shopping, I see."
She nodded, and when the bartender walked over to her table, Greg said, "Put it on my tab."
"Thanks," she said in that same sultry voice. He was even more impressed when she asked for a glass of Bennett Wine. A pinot noir.
He slipped off the stool and approached her table. "I'm Greg."
"Cherry Adams."
He liked her name; it suited her. "Do you mind if I join you?"
"Go ahead. Why not?"
The day was already looking brighter. He pulled out a chair and sat down. They made small talk for a few minutes, exchanged pleasantries. He didn't mention his last name because he didn't want her to make the connection and have their conversation weighed down by the problems at Bennett Wines. However, it soon became clear that she was knowledgeable about wine—and very flattering about his 1996 pinot noir. Tess had been an idiot on the subject, despite being married to the owner of a winery. She didn't know the difference between chablis and chardonnay. And she never did understand why he couldn't call his own sparkling wine champagne, no matter how many times he told her the name could only be used for sparkling wines from the Champagne region of France.
After another glass of wine for her and a second martini for him, Greg suggested lunch. Cherry hesitated and gazed down at her hands. "Sorry, but I've got a nail appointment."
"You could cancel it," Greg suggested, trying to hint that they could find more entertaining ways to occupy themselves. He didn't want her to think he was being pushy. Later, after lunch, he'd surprise her and announce who he really was. He was pleased—no, delighted—by her interest in him, particularly because she didn't know he was the man responsible for the wine she'd described as "exquisite." He grinned; wait till he told her. Cherry's interest proved what he'd been telling himself ever since Tess had walked out on him. He was still young, still vital, still sexy.
That was when it happened.
The look that crossed Cherry's face conveyed her thoughts as clearly as if she'd said them aloud. She wasn't interested. Oh, sure, he was good for a few drinks, especially since he was buying. Good for an hour of conversation. But that was all.
"I really do have to go," Cherry said as she reached for her shopping bags. "My nails are a mess. Thanks for the, uh, company and the wine, though."
"Don't mention it," Greg muttered, watching her leave. He was still reeling from the blow to his pride.
Soon afterward, he left, too. He'd never been one to take rejection well, mainly because he'd had so little experience of it.
After two martinis he knew he wasn't in any condition to drive. So he left his car in the lot and started to walk. With no destination in mind, he wandered down the crowded street, trying to keep his distance from all those happy little shoppers. His stomach growled and his head hurt, but not nearly as much as his ego. Every time he thought about the look on Cherry's face, he cringed. Okay, okay, she'd been too young. At a guess he'd say she was no more than thirty.
However, Greg knew a dozen women her age who would leap at the opportunity to spend a day and a night with him. He was suave, sophisticated and rich. Not as rich as he'd once been—would be again, as soon as he got this latest mess straightened out. If he got it straightened out. The truth was, he stood on the brink of losing everything.
Desperate to escape his dark thoughts, he began to walk at a brisker pace. He made an effort not to think, not to acknowledge his fears and worries, concentrating, instead, on the movement of his feet, the rhythm of his breath. He turned corner after corner and eventually found himself on a side street dominated by an imposing brick church.
He paused in front of it. A church. Now that was a laugh. He remembered how his mother had dragged him and his brother, Phil, to service every Sunday. He'd even attended services while he was in college. But he hadn't darkened the door of a church since…Catherine.
She'd been his sweetheart, his lover, during college—until he'd broken it off. No, abandoned her. That was a more honest description of what he'd done. The years had numbed his guilt, and he rarely thought of her anymore. Funny how a relationship that had ended more than thirty-five years ago could suddenly rise up to haunt him. He'd been a senior the last time he'd seen Catherine. They'd been madly in love. Then she'd told him she was pregnant and Greg had panicked. About to graduate, about to start his life, he'd done what had seemed sensible at the time; he'd fled.
Unable to face her, he'd written Catherine a letter and told her he was leaving. She should do whatever she wanted about the baby. It'd been cowardly of him, but he was just a kid back then; he'd long since stopped berating himself over it. He'd never heard from her again. He didn't know what she'd done about the baby. Didn't want to know. Abortions hadn't been legal at the time, but there were ways of getting rid of an unwanted pregnancy even then. His mother hadn't ever learned why his relationship with Catherine had ended, but Phil knew. That was the beginning of the estrangement between Greg and his brother.
Almost without realizing it, Greg began to move up the church steps. He blamed it on the throng of shoppers crowding in around him. All he wanted was a few moments of peace and quiet. A chance to think.
He hesitated on the top step. He didn't belong in a church, not the way he'd lived. And yet…
His life was empty and he was old enough to recognize that. But at sixty, it was a bit late. For most of his adult life, he'd followed the path of least resistance, put his own interests above those of other people. He'd believed that was the basis of prosperity, of success. Deserting Catherine was where it had started.
She'd been the first of his regrets. Matthias was the second. And then his mother.
Matthias Jamison was his father's cousin and an employee at the winery. Greg's parents had divorced when he was in high school, and he and Phil had spent summers with their father at the vineyard. Although the younger of the two, Greg was the one who'd been drawn to the family business. He'd spent hour after hour there, learning everything he could about wine and wine making.
Ten years his senior, Matthias had taken Greg under his wing. What John Bennett didn't teach Greg about wine making, Matthias did. His father had also insisted Greg get a business degree, and he'd been right. Several years later, when he died, Greg bought out Phil's half to become sole owner and worked with Matthias operating the winery.
The wine had always been good. What the business needed was an aggressive advertising campaign. People couldn't order the Bennett label if they'd never heard of it. The difficulty with Greg's ideas was the huge financial investment they demanded. Commissioning sophisticated full-page ads and placing them in upscale food magazines, attending wine expositions throughout the world—it had all cost money. He'd taken a gamble, which was just starting to pay off when Matthias came to him, needing a loan.
Mary, Matthias's wife of many years, had developed a rare form of blood cancer. The experimental drug that might save her life wasn't covered by their health insurance. The cost of the medication was threatening to bankrupt Matthias; his savings were gone and no bank would lend him money. He'd asked Greg for help. After everything the older man had done for him and for his family, Greg knew he owed Matthias that and more.
The decision had been agonizing. Bennett Wines was just beginning to gain recognition; sales had doubled and tripled.
But Greg's plans were bigger than that. He'd wanted to help Matthias, but there was no guarantee the treatment would be effective. So he'd turned Matthias down. Mary had died a few months later, when conventional treatments failed, and a bitter Matthias had left Bennett Wines and moved to Washington state.
Generally Greg didn't encourage friendships. He tended to believe that friends took advantage of you, that they resented your success. It was every man for himself, in Greg's view. Still, Matthias had been the best friend he'd ever had. Because of what happened, the two men hadn't spoken in fifteen years.
Greg could have used Matthias's expertise in dealing with the blight that had struck his vines, but he was too proud to give him the opportunity to slam the door in his face. To refuse him the way he'd refused Matthias all those years ago.
No, Greg definitely wasn't church material. Whatever had possessed him to think he should go into this place, seek solace here, he couldn't fathom.
He was about to turn away when he noticed that the church doors were wide open. Had they been open all this time? He supposed they must have been. It was almost as if he was being invited inside…. He shook his head, wondering where that ridiculous thought had come from. Nevertheless, he slowly walked in.
The interior was dim and his eyes took a moment to adjust. He saw that the sanctuary was huge, with two rows of pews facing a wide altar. Even the church was decorated for the holidays. Pots of red and white poinsettias were arranged on the altar, and a row of gaily decorated Christmas trees stood behind it. A large cross hung suspended from the ceiling.
An organ sat off to one side, along with a sectioned space for the choir. Greg hadn't stopped to notice which denomination this church was. Nor did he care.
Although his mother had been an ardent churchgoer, Greg had hated it, found it meaningless. But Phil seemed to eat this religious stuff up, just like their mother had.
"Okay," Greg said aloud. None of this whispering business for him. "The door was open. I came inside. You want me to tell you I made a mess of my life? Fine, I screwed up. I could've done better. Is that what you were waiting to hear? Is that what you wanted me to say? I said it. Are you happy now?"
His words reverberated, causing him to retreat a step.
And as he did, his life suddenly overwhelmed him. His failures, his shortcomings, his mistakes came roaring at him like an avalanche, jerking him off his feet. He seemed to tumble backward through the years. The force of it was too much and he slumped into a pew, the weight of his past impossible to bear. He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.
"Can you forgive me, Mama?" he whispered brokenly. "Is there any way I can make up for what I did—not being there for you? When you needed me…"
He deserved every rotten thing that was happening to him. If he couldn't get a loan, if he lost the winery, it would be what he deserved. All of it.
Most helpful customer reviews
61 of 62 people found the following review helpful.
Hoping in vain for a new Christmas angel
By wogan
First let me say I have enjoyed most of Debbie Macomber's books and have especially loved her Christmas angels books. Who could not be enchanted by angels named Shirley, Goodness and Mercy? So I have read them all. When I saw this book that said `Choir of Angels', 3 stories about 3 delightful angels destined to be Christmas classics. I thought at least one of them would be a new story. After all it says destined to become Christmas classics - not that they are ones already. That is the usual language for the romance genre to tell you it is a reissue.
This is a reissue of all 3 stories. None of them are new. Nowhere on the book cover or in the book description does it say they are reissued or give the original titles. A compilation or a reissue is fine. There are books readers look for and would like to purchase; but put the original titles on the cover, even below a new title - don't hide the fact that this is not a new story. One or 2 sentences sums up the story in the site's book description and unless you remember names exactly you might assume they are new.
`Shirley Goodness and Mercy' published in 1999, introduced these 3 angels. They are assigned a businessman who has finally begun to pray for guidance after years of horrible behavior.
In `Those Christmas Angels' published in2003, they are assigned a divorced lady and have until Christmas to make her prayers come true.
`Where Angels Go' published in 2007, the angels are to give peace to an old man and help a women who has been hurt and is now afraid to love again.
All are lovely Christmas stories, but this continued practice of the romance book industry and or authors almost, if not completely, at times deceptively reissuing books creates much dissatisfaction among readers.
I like the stories enough to give them 5 stars when I first read them but it is a 0 star rating for something like this, when a book is reissued without clear labeling.
14 of 16 people found the following review helpful.
Great stories, questionable ethics, leaves me wondering if I want to buy more Macomber books.
By bas bleu
Ifffffffff. you have not read these already you are in for a treat. If you own these previously issued trio of books save your money and reread yours again. Shame on the issuers and Debbie Macomber for apparently misleading us. I had not read these 3 books and must say they will be a wonderful break during a busy Holiday Season. The angels are funny, the stories heart warming full of love for mankind and all the things we like to think our world could be year round if we could treat everyone with the same love, compassion, patience, and fun loving gentle humor that we seem to reserve just for Christmas once a year. I must say I will be watching out for omissions of notifications that books are a reissue in the future, I do not wish to support a publisher or author that fails to inform their reading audience of such things. It seems especially of a lesser character when the book concerns such very moral and upright substance. Rather a contradiction in what is said in the book, and what is done in practice. Would have been 5 stars if not for sour taste of not knowing they were a reissue.
6 of 6 people found the following review helpful.
RERELEASE package of 3 Christmas Angel stories
By Harold Wolf
It's as sweet a Christmas treat to Debbie Macomber fans as a 3-layer angel food cake.
Because of the new TV series, Macomber's new fans are looking for past works, thus the reissue of good stories at a lower than original release price. Publisher is competing against the re-sale mkt.
Not new, but for those just discovering Macomber and her feel good Christmas story collection, there are 3 from the past that include the delights of the heavenly angel misfits: Shirley, Goodness, & Mercy. A republishing in a collection of Macomber Holiday classics. They are all 3 about Christmas, and angels, and getting the holiday done right, but not without some pitfalls occurring during the jingle-jangle hustle and bustle. Expect laughs and a heartwarming finish.
Light, fun, Christmas reading.
SHIRLEY GOODNESS AND MERCY
Greg Bennett is not your most likable Napa Valley bloke, but at Christmas time he calls out for help. It is heard from on high, and a trio of angels named Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy, are sent to the rescue. What part of Greg's messed life will they assist first? Can he truly change? No it's not Scrooge and 3 ghosts, it's a guy and 3 angels and the story is a lot of fun.
THOSE CHRISTMAS ANGELS
Yes, "those" Christmas Angels are back. Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy finally get another chance to aid a human in need of much assistance, including love, and of course a good dose of Christmas Spirit. 3 heavenly spirits might just be able to do the trick and get Roy and Julie looking for mistletoe. Not an easy task, and of course some funny experiences due to the 3 angel prodding Roy along.
WHERE ANGELS GO
Gabriel sees fit to send our mischievous, funny, and eventually successful trio (Shirley, Goodness, & Mercy) on a new Christmas assignment. More than one. Mercy draws Harry to assist; Shirley deals with Carter and a dog called Rusty; and Goodness is involved with Beth and romance.
Macomber is predictable in that the end will be joyful. After all, it's Christmas and who want more of Scrooge done over and over.
Also check out another new Debbie Macomber's 2014 holiday release
Mr. Miracle: A Christmas Novel
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