This post is dedicated to Letia, a remarkable reading friend whose return to reading after a bookless season inspires me! After penning a post of first lines from my last eleven novels, the idea emerged to honor last lines, too. I don’t recall them off the top of my head so it’s interesting for me to take another look! Since I write inspirational fiction whose basis is hope, all my books have happy endings. And home is a central theme, as you shall see…

The Frontiersman’s Daughter: The past no longer had a hold on her. No more secrets. No more shadows.

Courting Morrow Little: But home wasn’t a place, she was coming to realize. Home was family. Home was right here, right now. With these God-given people.

The Colonel’s Lady: She queried with a joyous smile, “What say ye, Colonel McLinn?” His eyes glinted with good humor. “I say aye, Mistress McLinn. Limp on.”

Love’s Reckoning: “Amen,” Silas said in a sort of benediction, kissing Eden again.

Love’s Awakening: She was Jack Turlock’s bride. And tonight, at least, Ellie never wanted to leave River Hill, wedding journey or otherwise.

Love’s Fortune: “Where are you going, Wren?” “Home, Jamie.” She held out both hands to him. “Home at last.”

The Mistress of Tall AcreSophie began to laugh but she wanted to dance. Turning toward Three Chimneys, she bid it goodbye in her heart and head. Clasping her hand, Seamus began tugging her gently toward his waiting mount. Toward Tall Acre. Home. At long last.

A Moonbow Night: Sion’s low words were nearly lost beneath the tumult of the falls. “Best bid the moonbow goodnight, Tempe Tucker.” She smiled and held on to hope. Their hard-won future loomed bright. “Tempe Tucker Morgan.”

The Lacemaker: They fell into step together, hand in hand, the faithful horse following. Toward Ty Bryn and Ty Mawr. Home. At long last.

A Bound Heart: “One day, mayhap, we’ll return home. To Scotland.” Reaching out, he snuffed the candle flame a-dance in a warm draft. “Tonight we shall put away all though of the morrow. God has given us this day, this hour, aye?” Lark nodded through her tears. Tears of joy, not sorrow. Truly, there was nothing she could possibly ask for other than Magnus and this very hallowed moment.

An Uncommon Woman…

Happily ever after, indeed!