Whispers of Summer

by Eva Orilla

Overview

This is the third book in the WHIPSER SERIES by Eva Orilla. WHISPERS OF WINTER: When Jolie Mossman finally found love, her husband was 26 years her senior. They had it all for a short two decades before he died. They had a son together, and though they yearned for more children, they lived every moment in sheer happiness on the Johnson family farm. WHISPERS OF AUTUMN: After three long years of mourning, Jolie meets an ex-Rodeo rider, Morgan Wheeler, who is 13 years her junior, tall, quiet, and carries a heart full of pain himself. He lost everything in a nasty divorce and doesn't believe in love until he meets Jolie. They have a comical beginning, as he comes to work on her family farm that she runs with her grown son. Their connection is undeniable, but when Morgan receives a phone call regarding his ex-wife, he has to leave. However, when he returns, he has a 2-year-old girl in his arms. WHISPERS OF SUMMER: Four years later, Jolie and Morgan are settling into the routine of their new life. Jolie is sixty-two years old, raising the daughter she always dreamed of having with her husband, Morgan, who is almost fifty. The child keeps them moving and keeps them both young at heart as they work through the demands of the farm and a new business. This contemporary country, comedy, romance has some unforgettable moments and colorful characters that you will not be able to forget. Join the WHISPERS FAMILY and see for yourself how the power of love can bring light and laughter to the broken, downtrodden souls who have given up on love and happily ever after. It all here in these three volumes. We dare you not to laugh and cry, and want more.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9798317815219
Publisher:	BookBaby
Publication date:	10/13/2025
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	284
File size:	1 MB
Age Range:	13 Years

About the Author

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR Eva Orilla is my pseudonym. It is my great-grandmother's name, from my father's side. Her daughter is my grandmother Doris. I sat at her feet every Sunday growing up, listening as she shared the stories of her life with me. About my grandfather, the seven babies they delivered together at home, and she showed me her writings, journals, and scrapbooks. I am more of a 1950s housewife than an eighties lady. I was born with an old spirit, a hundred years TOO LATE. I was raised on my fathers 's small farm, with three brothers, and because of my "Real-life Riley," we were given the opportunity to buy a 178-acre farm thirty-four years ago. I have spent every ounce of strength I have and every available second and penny trying to bring this 1882 farmhouse back to life. I love vintage, if it has a story to tell, its in our home, if it doesn't, its now here. And, we farm vintage, cabless tractors, ear pickers ( a machine that pulls behind the tractor and leaves the corn on the cob), we fill a round wire crib with all the ears, and we grind that ear corn into feed when we need it, for a small herd of Hereford cattle. I believe the older ways of farming and preserving/protecting the ground are still viable and " YIELDS THE BEST FAMILY MEMORIES". It has been a precious gift to be able to raise our children here. We built a two-story playhouse, and beneath it is housing for little wagons, pedal tractors, and there are dozens of old, used bikes. When our terrific twelve grandchildren are all here, the large circular drive on this farm is not for cars or trucks; the North Yard becomes a ball field, and everyone, including adults, becomes a player on a team. Most every Sunday, our children and grandchildren are here at the farm for breakfast. Sometimes, we all work together on baling hay, filling the round crib with corn, or making mechanical repairs. Sometimes, we are all together for lunch and/or supper. There is never a dull moment, and every Sunday feels like a HOLIDAY. The doors on this farmhouse are constantly opening and banging shut. There is lots of laughter, there are long conversations around the table, serious talks, sometimes tears, and someone is usually shouting over someone else to be heard. We still ring the cast-iron dinner bell for supper, or ice cream for the children. (a precious memory to ring the bells and watch all those kids form running from all areas). Our home, our farm, is a lovely GATHERING PLACE, and I am constantly thankful for every person, every sound, every BLESSED moment. All three of the novels I have written truly wrote themselves. Their stories unfolded effortlessly, without hesitation or effort. I had more issues with finding the time to write than actually creating the stories or people. I hope you find this third book to be an enjoyable read. Happy Reading. With Light and Love Eva Orilla/Sherry Haas-Shelby