"Debra ""DJ"" Erfert, a winner of a 2017 Kindle Scout campaign, has authored five published novels, three novellas, and one Kindle World’s novella, and several short stories. She writes what her alter-ego dictates. Maybe it’s her super-ego. In her Window of Time series, Lucy is fearless and strong and has a secret power—all qualities Debra envies. In real life, spiders terrify her, which is why they appear on a regular basis in her books. “Confront your fears, and have your characters squish them!”
Debra uses the pen name DJ Erfert for her paranormal suspense/thriller books, and Debra Erfert for her romantic suspense/mystery books. She is an award-winning fine artist who lives in a southwest desert city in Arizona with her husband, Mike, a retired police lieutenant, where the average summer temperatures are well above 100 degrees—truly hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. After raising two Eagle Scouts, she now spends her time writing and shooing her polydactyl cats away from her keyboard."
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Tensions rise as Abby’s attraction grows for the tough
sheriff. She must crack through his emotional wall before the storm breaks or
lose her only chance for real love. But if the storm doesn't stop soon enough,
Abby may lose her opportunity to ask her mother's forgiveness for running away
almost ten years before.
Snowdrift is a story about love, faith, and forgiveness."
Snowdrift is a story about love, faith, and forgiveness."
Snippet:
If
serendipity played a hand in Abby’s journey, she couldn’t see it through the
blowing snow. With her sweatshirt sleeves pulled down over her hands for
warmth, she squinted past the fast-paced windshield wipers into the Wyoming
blizzard. Even with the Jeep’s heater on high, the icy wind blew in through the
gaps of the soft-top fast enough it threatened to plunge Abby’s body into
hypothermia. Common sense had told her to stop at the last town, but her heart
whispered to take the chance and keep going. A hundred more miles on the narrow
two-lane highway and she could see her mother before she died.
Twenty-seven-year-old
Abby rubbed her sleeve under her nose and sniffed back another volley of tears.
“Hold on, Mom . . . I’m almost there.”
It
had been close to ten years since Abby had even talked with her. Truthfully,
deciding whether or not to come had been made at the last minute. She’d changed
her mind twice since climbing into her Jeep and driving away from her home in
the low desert of Arizona. Abby lifted her phone from the passenger seat. Maybe
she could redial the man who had called claiming to be her mom’s husband and
tell him how close she was. At least then her sick mother would know she still
cared.
A
sick, gliding sensation drew her attention back out the windshield. She
couldn’t see the road. Abby’s heart flipped when she realized the Jeep was
skidding, turning out of control in the whiteness.
When
the Wrangler jerked to a sudden stop, Abby hit her forehead on the steering
wheel. She waited with her pulse pounding in her neck. Would the Jeep slide
down some obscured cliff? Seconds dragged into minutes. Abby let loose of the
steering wheel and touched her head. She couldn’t feel anything. Her fingertips
were too cold.
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