Dear Reader,

Becca Kinzer lives in Springfield, Illinois, where she works as a critical care nurse. When she’s not busy taking care of sick patients or using up all the storage on her phone with pictures of her dog, she enjoys making up lighthearted stories with serious laughs. She is the author of multiple titles including ‘Dear Henry, Love Edith’, which won the 2024 Carol Award for debut novel. ‘Not What We Pictured’ is her fourth novel…

McKenna Boston is feeling stuck. She’s spent years growing her photography skills only for her career to hit a wall. She’s ready to move on, and she will, just as soon as she helps her sister’s boyfriend stage the perfect proposal. But when her best laid plans go awry and a handsome stranger accidentally ends up with the heirloom ring, McKenna hops on a flight to retrieve it. Piece of cake, right?

You could win one of three copies of ‘Not What We Pictured.’ To enter the drawing, send an email to zoejethani@tyndale.com Please include your shipping address in case you’re a winner.

Visit Becca via her website: https://beccakinzer.com/contact/

Welcome to the book club, Becca Kinzer…

I’m the type of lady who’s obsessed with her dog. Partly because I never thought I’d be able to own a dog due to my son’s dog allergies. But then we rubbed a goldendoodle all over my son and discovered it didn’t make him wheeze. So now we have a goldendoodle named Bonnie, and she’s the love of my life. I’m convinced I’ll never love another dog as much as I love her.

Which is exactly what I told the stray dog who tried following us home one day. The little guy appeared out of nowhere. No leash. No tags. Just a playful, fun-loving attitude. Bonnie was smitten, but I refused to fall for his charm.

“We are a one-dog house,” I explained as the little guy continued prancing alongside us through the park. “I have no room in my heart for you,” I told him when he crossed the street with us. “You can’t come inside,” I said when he tried welcoming himself into our house.

I closed the door on him. ‘Not my problem.’

When I peeked out the window, he was still in the front yard. I imagined he was thirsty. Who wouldn’t be? I took out a bowl of water. “But this is it,” I warned as he lapped up the water. “After this, you need to scram.”

I imagined him scramming and getting hit by a car. “Fine.” I opened the gate to our back yard. “You can hang out just until I track down your owner. But you are ‘not’ coming in the house.”

By evening he was sitting on my lap in the living room. I’d named him Hamish after a dog in my Christmas novella and had sent pictures to my brothers showing off the newest addition to our family. So what if my son was wheezing? This dog was family. This dog claimed my heart!

And then…I got a message from Hamish’s owner. Or at least someone claiming to be his owner. I wasn’t convinced. “Some lady’s trying to steal our dog,” I told my husband. “She doesn’t even know his name. She’s calling him ‘Biscuit’.”

My husband already had his shoes on. “What’s the address? Let’s go.”

I needed more proof before I handed my dog over to a complete stranger. She sent more proof. Shoot. She really did appear to be Hamish (Biscuit’s) owner. So we returned him.

Just as well. I’m the type of lady who only has room in her heart for one dog after all.

— Becca Kizner https://beccakinzer.com/contact/

Thanks for reading with me. It’s so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com