Where Two Hearts Meet Review



At the beginning of this month, I had the pleasure of reading Where Two Hearts Meet by Liz Johnson. This story…was absolutely captivating!

Here’s the blurb:

In her kitchen at the Red Door Inn, executive chef Caden Holt is calm, collected, and competent. But when her boss asks her to show off their beautiful island to impress a visiting travel writer and save the inn, Caden is forced to face a world much bigger than her kitchen–and a man who makes her wish she was beautiful.

Journalist Adam Jacobs is on a forced sabbatical on Prince Edward Island. He’s also on assignment to uncover a story. Instead he’s falling in love with the island’s red shores and Caden’s sweets.

When Caden discovers Adam isn’t who she thought he was, she realizes that the article he’s writing could do more than ruin the inn’s chances for survival–it might also break her heart.

Readers will discover hope for the hurting, joy for the broken, and romance for the lonely at the enchanting Red Door Inn.


My personal review:

From the first page I was launched onto the beautiful shores of Prince Edward Island, my imagination exploring the gorgeous sands and hearing the rhythmic lapping of water. The author paints such vivid scenes that by the end of the story I’ve felt like I went on vacation. 🙂

The main characters, though flawed, were extremely likable. Caden’s personality wasn’t flashy, wasn’t glamorous, and that’s why I adored her. She was down-to-earth and just plain cute. The kind of gal you’d have as a bestie in high school and keep close with for decades. In short, I loved her. Adam’s quick-wittedness and charm was evident from the first encounter, but so was his vulnerability and imperfections. Though I loved Adam’s growth throughout the novel, it was Caden who I’d found myself rooting for. I wanted her to succeed not only in her career as a chef, but as a person whose insecurities had held her back.

The romance was wonderfully crafted. Though the attraction was always present, the relationship between the characters gradually blossomed. It was fun to read. Very believable and intriguing. I found myself turning pages well into the night hours. What I loved the most was how the author subtly fused the message of grace into the story. It was spiritually refreshing and beautiful.

In conclusion, I’d recommend this book for anyone who enjoys contemporary inspirational romances. If you’d be interested in purchasing this fabulous story click here:

About the author:

By day Liz Johnson is a marketing manager. She makes time to write late at night—that’s when she thinks best anyway. Liz is the author of seven novels, a New York Times bestselling novella, and a handful of short stories. She’s also a two-time ACFW Carol Award finalist. She makes her home in Nashville, where she enjoys exploring local music, theater, and making frequent trips to Arizona to dote on her nieces and nephews. She writes stories of true love filled with heart, humor, and happily ever afters.

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*I was provided a free copy of this book. All opinions are my own.





Am I Being a Pharisee?



A Pharisee. Anyone who ever attended Sunday school will be familiar with the term. Pharisees were the religious folk who stirred up trouble for Jesus everywhere He turned, criticizing Him, judging Him, and hurling accusations which played a part in His death. Only just recently I realized on a minor scale I behaved like a Pharisee.

Let me explain.

This December marks the one-year anniversary of my grandfather’s death. Since as long as I could remember my grandfather, who we’d respectively called Big Sam, always had a beer in his hand. Big Sam drank like a parched camel in the Sahara, but to his honor, I’ve never seen him drunk.  The man also cussed. I repeated the same language and had my mouth washed out with soap. Believe me, Irish Spring coating your tongue isn’t delightful. Anyways, I judged Big Sam. He drank and he cussed, two things my Christian heart couldn’t condone.


Yes, I loved him. He had a fabulous sense of humor and an addicting laugh. I enjoyed his company, but in the corners of my heart- I judged, criticized. I pointed my self-righteous finger. It wasn’t until his funeral that I realized how off-base I was.

I was sitting in my chair when a man I never seen before stood to offer respectful words about Big Sam. His wrinkled face boasted a tender smile as he spoke of a man who quit his well-paying mill job enduring a ginormous pay-cut in order to start a center that helps the mentally-challenged. My jaw went slack. Then the older gentlemen proceeded to speak how Big Sam devoted years and years working with special needs adults, helping them reach their full potential. This center offered jobs to people whom society wouldn’t give a second glance to. This program encouraged the misfits, the downcast, and the blessed souls who needed a heart to believe in them. An organization my grandfather risked his income on starting. My heart grieved. He was more righteous than I had thought. Why hadn’t anyone told me his occupation before he retired? How come I never asked? Why did I have to learn about this at his funeral?

So many questions and regrets flooded my soul, swirling around until it reached my eyes in the form of tears.

I was so quick to judge. To dismiss him on his appearance and not taking the time to dig deep. He might have sipped Iron City, but he also changed lives.

Just like the Pharisees- they saw Jesus mingling with sinners and fishermen, but didn’t take in Him healing the sick, raising the dead, changing the world.

If I could stress one thing, friend, it’s this—take the time to look deep before you judge. Don’t be swayed by lewd language or surface issues, but the deep beliefs that govern the individual.

The Baby Bird Syndrome


I once tolerated something I like to call “The Baby Bird Syndrome.” What is it, you may ask? It’s the chronic addiction of gobbling up information people are feeding you like a baby bird—eyes clenched shut and mouth gaped open. (See photo 🙂 )

I embraced this idea for a good portion of my life, until…it almost ruined me. I made a mistake of trusting someone without questioning their motives or researching their claims. I just shrugged my shoulders and believed them. And of course, everyone has my best interests in mind, right? I was naive and young, but that awful exchange still tries to burden me years later.

So my rant to you concerning this colossal mess we are calling an election is this—don’t believe everything you read! Research it, study it, make certain the claims are true before gobbling it down like grandma’s lasagna.

This is a historical presidential election yet it’s been cheapened to what resembles a crude reality TV show. Or some high school popularity contest.

This concerns me.

My social media pages are flooded with political posts. Some vulgar. Some funny. But all missing one important element. The heartbeat that should pulse every American–the core beliefs of the candidate.

I don’t need to know if the candidate wore a ten-grand suit, but I do need to know what he/she feels about abortion. I don’t care if the candidate’s hair resembles my neighbor’s cat, but I do care what his/her position is on healthcare.

Beliefs. Beliefs. Beliefs.

As a Christian, which candidate will uphold my right to worship?

As a mama who home schools her special needs daughter, who will defend us?

As a parent who chooses not to vaccinate because her daughter had a serious reaction to them, will this person support my decision or overrule it?

Who will keep our nation secure from the vicious evil attempting to invade our borders?

Lastly, which candidate will select the proper, most-qualified Supreme Court Justice? Because now we’re talking about my kids’ future.

All of these questions matter to me, and the answers will result in who I back. I implore you friend, do not consume without looking at what you’re “eating.” Research. Validate. Then…vote. 🙂