Praise for Between Hope and the Highway
“Stastny has weaved an endearing tale with Between Hope and the Highway. It is a beautiful story about love, loss, redemption, and forgiveness of not only others, but most importantly, ourselves. This is more than a love story, it is a story of family and coming together." –Jennifer Peel, author
“...an epic tale of romance, unconditional love, redemption, and the power of the human spirit to survive and transform amidst adversity. The metamorphosis of the hero makes this a highly gratifying read. He grows with each flip of the page, leaving behind a trail of optimism. This book will make you smile as you witness a true change of heart.” – Taylor Dean, author
Read an Excerpt
“Hey, wait,” Rawson called after me.
I turned and smiled. Since he’d given me that flashy watch, he hadn’t been such a pill. “What do you need?”
He fidgeted. “Do you think you could maybe back off on this whole church thing? Benny’s getting too into it, and I don’t want to keep losing sleep every Sunday to drive you guys there.”
I narrowed my eyes. “No one’s forcing you to come.”
“Benny’s too easily swayed. I have to go to keep his head on straight.”
I winced at his poor choice of words. They sounded terrible in connection to his brother’s crooked neck.
“That came out wrong. I didn’t—”
“I’m sorry if worshiping God offends you. I’ll make sure to offer your brother drugs or some sleazy porn in the future instead.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I—”
“Just go back to bed. And when you wake up, get out on the right side so you’re not such a grump. I’ll call Mackay for a ride.”
I pushed past him. He hissed. “You don’t need to call Mack-y. I’ll take you.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t want to risk filling your head with rubbish like how God loves you and can save you from hell and horrible ideas like that.” I marched down the hall.
He caught my arm and turned me to face him. “Stop getting your feathers ruffled.”
Electricity seemed to shoot up my arms where he held my wrists. My heart beat like a tom-tom, making me choke on air as I stared up into his captivating eyes. Light green flecks burst from his pupils like rays into the startling blue of his irises.
“Let me go,” I said, but didn’t try to break his grip.
“Stop being so sensitive.”
“I’m not being…”
He backed me up against the wall. “
…sensitive,” I squeaked. His body pressed against mine, making it impossible to form words. I’d lied. Right then, I was the very definition of sensitive. Warmth flooded my body and the sensory receptors in my skin exploded where our bodies touched. As his cool breath caressed my cheek, I feared I might faint.
“I’m taking you to church.”
His eyes didn’t leave mine. “Okay?” It came out as a question because my body was busy putting out internal fires.
His lips twitched. “All righty then.” He released my wrists and stepped back. “I need to get ready for church…and you need to spruce up.”
His snarky words shattered the evil spell I’d fallen under.
“Yeah, I’m sure you need to change at least six more times.” It was a lame barb, but my brain wasn’t operating at optimal performance. He’d thrown me off my game. Shoot! He’d thrown me out of the dang ballpark.
********************Author Charissa Stastny Charissa Stastny is married to her high school sweetheart and has four children who are the light of her life. She’s an avid reader, happy writer, BYU graduate, and lover of irises, clouds, chocolate, sushi, and nature. Though born and raised in Las Vegas, she has never pulled a handle of a slot machine and can’t shuffle cards to save her life. She shuffles kids, laundry, and church responsibilities rather well though. She currently lives in Utah with her family, where shuffling cards isn’t required.