Hannah Conway is a military wife, mother of two, middle school teacher, best-selling author, and popular speaker.
Her novels are a deployment experience of their own, threaded with faith, and filled with twists.
Hannah is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers, and My book Therapy.
She and her family live in Tennessee.
Audria Rylatt is the school system’s liaison for homeless students. She strives to make Christmas bright for hundreds, while the season brings only heartache after her fiancé was killed in combat nearly two years ago. So when her family decides to play matchmaker, she is less than thrilled. To make matters worse, they’ve invited a soldier friend of her deceased fiancé to the family cabin for the holiday.
But she’s surprised to find this soldier, Quinton Nolan, standing at the door of heart. Faced with painful memories, the despair Christmas brings her, and the fear to love again, Audria is in desperate need of a Christmas miracle. Or at least some of the hope Christmas seems to offer so many. Can she embrace a new mission? If so, Christmas may stand to deliver a lifetime of magical memories.
“Christmas on a Mission” is a delightful story of hope, life, love, and second chances, filled with all the joy and cheer Christmas brings."
Snippet:
Oh. My. Gosh.
The message.
From him. The dude who thinks she likes him.
Maddox is so going to get it.
Her face warmed, and her foot hit the wrong pedal, sending her over the next speed bump with greater speed. More soup launched into the air, and Audria hit the brake, jolting the enormous tank of an RV to a halt. Angry horns sounded. She hunched her shoulders in multiple apologies and by the grace of God, was able to pull over without causing an accident.
She took in deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling through her nose, until her head felt light.
What is wrong with you? It's just a message.
But it wasn't just a message. It was the virtual rendition of a forced blind date. Some online, overseas version of matchmaking. An injustice. A violation of her natural rights. She rested her forehead to the steering wheel, eyes squeezed. The phone dinged again.
One peek. That's all.
She opened one eye at a time. Facebook Messenger proudly displayed his name: Quinton Nolan.
"Dear Ms. Rylatt, I hope this message finds you doing well. I'm writing because..." but that's all
Facebook wouldn’t allow her to see without actually opening the message. Her finger hovered over the message bubble. One slide and she could see the rest. But then he'd know she'd seen it. Ugh. If there were some way to read it without him knowing--Facebook needed to get on that.
