The Copper Creek Chronicles
ISBN: (13): 9781370421244
Published: 2018 Innovative Writing Works
Category: Fiction/Romance/Western/Family Life
Pages:1,265
The Copper Creek Chronicles is a wholesome frontier saga about the Randolph family and the members
of their close-knit community in Copper Creek, Missouri.

Set amid the changes of the late 1800s, the four novels from Elizabeth A. Miller's original award worthy
Copper Creek Series comprise this comprehensive story of long-kept secrets, hidden fortunes, greed,
revenge, faith, loss, romance, mystery, and redemption.

The Copper Creek Chronicles contain:
Secrets of the Stream (Book 1) - Jane Randolph learns the startling truth about her beloved uncle's
past and struggles against the loyalty due to her family and the stirrings of her heart for the man bent on
her uncle's destruction.
Ripples by the Stream (Book 2) - Olivia Kohl must reveal Michael Randolph's darkest secret or risk
losing her chance to claim the life she'd thought she'd forsaken long ago.
Memories by the Stream ( Book 3) - Ruth Randolph recalls the most difficult decision of her youth
and brings about a retribution that could cost Ruth her life, if she can't find a way to put the past to rest.
Crossroads at the Stream (Book 4) The Randolphs are expecting a happy ending until the ambitions
of a mysterious stranger threatens to expose a secret about the town's origins that could destroy the
entire community.

Discover the "secret" of Copper Creek for yourself. Read this heart-warming tale of love and life in The
Copper Creek Chronicles today.
Ebook Price $7.99
Synopsis
Excerpt
Explore the Series...
©2018 Innovative Writing Works
Ripples in the Stream
Copper Creek Series - Book 2
Michael Randolph's death that
summer sent shock waves through
Copper Creek.... Read More
Memories by the Stream
Copper Creek Series - Book 3
Ruth Randolph was convinced
nothing could mar her newfound
happiness until... Read More
Secrets of the Stream
Copper Creek Series - Book 1
Before the summer
of 1880, Jane
Randolph would
never have guessed
how many secrets
were hidden in
Copper Creek...
Read More
Crossroads at the Stream
Copper Creek Series - Book 4
The stage brought
a strange man to
Copper Creek
with a dangerous
mission that could
change the fate of
the whole town....
Read More
Before Jane realized it, she was in the heart of the woods. She hurried past shrubs and familiar trees, moving
on to her favorite spot near the creek. When she finally emerged from the trees, the sultry sounds of
evensong were flooding the canopy above. Warm from her exertions, Jane sat on a large, smooth rock
embedded along the bank of the stream and dipped her hand beneath the ripples running past. It felt cool and
wonderfully soft. She drew out her handkerchief and dampened it to wipe her face. Then she sat very still,
reveling in the serenity of her placid surroundings.
A smile tugged at Jane's lips at the sight of a dragonfly as it skimmed the glassy surface of the water only to
speed off into the dazzling crimson sunset. She closed her eyes to quiet the noise inside her head, but she
was soon jarred out of her peaceful contemplation by the sound of rustling in the nearby willows. Jane
watched as concentric rings of water spread out towards her from the opposite bank. Expecting to see a deer
emerge, she was disturbed to see a man instead.
His face was difficult to discern in the fading light, but he appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He wore a white
shirt that was open at the throat. His shirtsleeves were cuffed to the elbow and his feet were bare. In one
hand, he held his boots and in the other, a fishing pole. Jane noted how smooth and well-defined his hands
were. The sort of hands a doctor or an artist might have. He stopped short at the sight of Jane and she stood
up, uncertain what to do next.
"Pardon me," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Jane nodded in acceptance of his apology.
He moved a little closer and said, "I wasn't expecting to see anyone. I thought the whole town would be at
that party tonight."
"I was," Jane confessed. "But I left."
"So I see. Whose shindig is it anyhow?"
"The Randolph's," Jane replied.
"You know them?"
"I should. I'm a Randolph."
The stranger turned sharply and gaped at her.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't…"
"You needn't be sorry. It isn't my party anyway. My Uncle Michael is the host."
"Michael Randolph?"
Jane nodded. "Yes. Do you know him?"
The stranger grimaced. "The name does sound familiar. How is it you said you were related?"
"He's my father's brother."
"I see…" His words seemed to trail away as he studied her for a moment and then retreated into his own
thoughts.
"And you are?"
"Tired," he replied, resting his fishing pole against a nearby tree. "Now, if you don't mind. I'd like to sit down.
My feet hurt."
"That's no answer," Jane persisted.
"It will have to do."
"I don't understand you at all."
"Why should you? We're strangers aren't we? So let's keep it that way."
The interloper lowered himself to the ground and began to brush the grit off the bottom of his left foot.
"It might help your feet more if you actually wore your shoes," Jane observed.
He looked over his shoulder at her. "I was. I only took them off so they wouldn't get wet when I crossed the
creek."
"Oh."
He busied himself pulling on his left boot and reached for the right one when Jane added, "Do you live
around here?"
"I haven't decided."
"Then where do you come from?"
He finished pulling on his right boot and turned to face her.
"Are you always this nosy?"
Jane bristled. "Are you always this rude?"
The stranger smirked and got to his feet.
"Aren't you going to answer me?" Jane persisted.
"No," he said. Then he smiled.
Jane crossed her arms in frustration and watched as the stranger walked away to collect his pole.
"Now don't be irritable," he added, turning to face her again. "Just run along home to your uncle now, before
it starts to rain."
"You're condescending too," Jane replied.
"Am I?"
"Yes. Who are you to order me about like I'm a child?"
"I am the voice of experience telling you that nice young girls shouldn't be out alone in the woods at night."
"And why not?"
In her anger, Jane had unwittingly narrowed the gap between them. She stood close enough to the stranger
now to be captivated by his clever, green eyes. In an instant, his expression changed from amusement to
frustration and then to something far more disconcerting that Jane could not identify. The way he gazed into
her eyes made her feel quite vulnerable, as if he could read her thoughts. Finally, he spoke.
"The fact you don't know why is precisely the reason."
Jane took a step back. The stranger took one last look. "I think I'll be going now. You'd better get going too.
That storm is coming fast." He started to walk away.
"Wait. Won't you tell me who you are?"
He paused to consider her request and shook his head.
He moved on again and Jane shouted after him. "Stubborn!"
He continued to walk away.
"And it isn't going to rain," Jane added.
The stranger spun around momentarily and smiled at her. "Good night, Miss Randolph." With that, he
vanished among the darkening trees.
Jane mumbled under her breath. "I can stay here as long as I like. Doesn't the fool know we're in a drought?"
Satisfied she had put the stranger in his place, she reclaimed her seat upon the rock. She looked around and
reaffirmed, "It isn't going to rain," as if repeating it would confirm its veracity. However, the words had barely
escaped her lips when she heard the low rumble of thunder. Her chest tightened as the rumble grew louder.
The moon was beginning to be obscured by fast moving clouds.
"It won't rain," Jane asserted.
She settled back upon the rock, determined to remain, when a flash of lightning tore across the horizon.
Rain began to speckle the dry ground. Jane cursed under her breath and scrambled to her feet to take cover
beneath the trees. She waited briefly for the storm to break, but was forced to run for town. By the time she
reached home, she was soaked through and her spirits were just as damp. The party had been forced to an
abrupt ending by the storm and those who wished to continue celebrating had moved down the street to the
hotel. So there was no one around to question Jane when she went up to her room and changed into her
nightdress. It was a little past quarter to nine as she fell into bed and doused her lamp, determined to forget
the whole miserable day.
Lying in the darkness, Jane listened to the sound of rain dripping from the gutter outside her window. It
seemed to be tapping out "I told you so" with such irritating persistence she wasn't able to relax. She couldn't
get her mind off the vexing stranger she'd met in the woods. When she finally succumbed to sleep, her
dreams were fraught with rainstorms, fishing poles, and the melodious laughter of a man she could never
quite see.