One Chance At Forever: A Romance Novel About Discovering Faith For The First Time (Faithful Love Book 2)

5.00 out of 5


Is it possible to be happy when you have nothing?

Wyatt is an intellectual. He’s also a wealthy widow. His heart longs to make sense of what happened and desires to know if lasting beauty truly exists.

One evening he meets a stranger who changes his life forever. Who is this?

Could you move beyond the boundaries of your heart? Could you set aside everything you know to be true to find truth?

One Chance At Forever is a realistic Christian romance about finding love, peace and God. Christians who desire to approach God in a real way will be lifted by this inspirational story. God’s love is woven between the pages and knitted together with the character’s lives in order to show the love of God in a real way.

“Absolutely beautiful book! ” – Marla

“A Realistic Christian Romance About Finding God and Love.” – Nancy Garbe

“A wonderful read!” DarkJade

“This is a beautifully written book that is full of emotions. It grabs you on the first page and doesn’t let go. This is a book you don’t want to miss! I loved it!” Ann Ferri

SKU: B0896WW1RH Category:


A romance novel about discovering faith for the first time, One Chance At Forever, shows readers what it looks like for a man to discover a relationship with God.

Story Sample from One Chance At Forever:

Chapter 1

Wyatt didn’t write because he enjoyed it. He wrote because it allowed him to escape the painful reality of his life. Void of any real meaning since the day he lost his one true love, Stephanie, writing provided him with a temporal portal into another world, hidden away from the pain, hidden away from the haunting memories of the day that changed his life forever.

Lifting his fingers away from the keyboard, he let out a deep sigh as his mind retreated from the imaginary and returned to the real. The clock on his office wall ticked away the next few seconds as he sat in his solitude, reflecting over what he had written of his latest novel. Wyatt craned his neck to look at the oversized clock that was over six feet wide and made of smooth reflective metal. It was just a few minutes past noon.

Pushing his chair away from the desk, he stood and walked out of his office on the third story of his 4,700 square foot home. He journeyed down the hallway and out to the railing that overlooked his large living room with ceiling-high windows. Leaning his arms against the cold metal railing, he peered out through the windows. His property was twenty-three acres in all and included a small unused cottage. He could see the cold Pacific Ocean waves crashing onto the shore just beyond the cottage, just beyond the partially sunken wooden steps leading through sand dunes out to the beach. The view was breathtaking from almost every vantage point in the house. The views contributed to the reason he had chosen this particular house from the others along the Lincoln City shoreline. He thought the view would help, but it did little to ease his troubled soul.

The house had grown to feel more like a prison than a home since he had moved into it four years ago.

His mind started to drift that afternoon, like a piece of driftwood coming ashore. His thoughts were on a crash course toward the same topic that had been consuming his mind for the past two weeks. What meaning does life have if everyone you love is eventually lost?

Walking away from the question and the railing, he shuffled down the first set of stairs. Peering into the second level that held nothing more than empty bedrooms and an unused sitting area, he continued to the second set of stairs that led down to the main level.

Wyatt walked into the kitchen to prepare lunch. He made a sandwich and ate it at the kitchen island. Silence wasn’t a friend of his, but it showed up all the time like it was. To Wyatt, one of his two true friends was his black cat named Max. His feline friend strolled into the kitchen as he set his plate into the sink. Max wove between Wyatt’s legs, brushing up against one and then the other. Lifting Max to his chest, he smoothed a hand over the back of his neck.

After reading in his library for the following two hours, Wyatt got ready for a jog. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a hooded gray sweatshirt. Then he laced his running shoes and put in his earbuds. He jogged his usual route north along the shoreline in Lincoln City, journeying almost six miles in total to Chinook Winds Casino. Breathing deeply as he slowed to a light walk on the shore, he popped out his earbuds and listened to the waves crashing on the shore. Without the music in his ears to distract him, his thoughts came flooding in. Meaning. Life. Loss. He wondered if he’d ever again feel what it meant to be alive instead of merely existing.

His cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his sweats pocket. It was his friend Dustin, another writer in town he had met in a coffee shop last year.

“Let’s go down to the pier tonight for dinner and share some laughs and crab.”

Raking his hand through his hair, Wyatt shook his head. “I can’t tonight. I’m in the middle of a book.”

Dustin laughed. “You’re always in the middle of a book, man! C’mon, I need out of my house for a couple of hours.”

Knowing of his friend’s recent hardships in marriage to his wife, Melinda, he caved. “Okay, but I don’t want it to run late.”

“That’s fine. Let’s plan for seven.”

Arriving at DJ’s Crab Shack a few hours later, a hostess led Wyatt over to the table where Dustin was sitting and munching on biscuits.

Dustin stood slightly and reached a hand out. They shook hands and sat down.

“Melinda and you still having difficulties?” Wyatt raised an eyebrow as he took a biscuit from the basket in the middle of the table.

He shook his head. “Not so much.”

Wyatt shook his head as he kept his eyes locked on Dustin. “Then why did you insist on this outing?”

“It’s been two months since I’ve seen you.” Dustin shrugged. “You’d never admit it, but I know you enjoy your solitude. Sometimes, though, you’ve got to get out there and see people.”

Wyatt let out a sarcastic laugh and set the biscuit down. “Is that what this is about? You’re worried about me?”

“No. Well . . . maybe a little. We’re friends, Wyatt. I miss our conversations.” Dustin glanced around the restaurant, his gaze eventually landing on Wyatt. “There’s not a lot of people with the lights on upstairs, and it’s refreshing to talk to you. Do tell me, what have you been contemplating lately? Thinking about?”

Wyatt’s lips curled into a smile. Dustin knew him better than anyone else in that town, and he knew the way he thought. He welcomed his blunt nature. “You’ve got me pegged.”

“All right. So out with it.”

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about the meaningfulness in life . . . in love.

“To love is to have lived.”

“Sure, that sounds pretty, but what’s it mean? What meaning does life give if everyone we ever love eventually dies?”

Dustin appeared to think and wrestle with the question in his mind as he took the next few moments to be silent. He then wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed the basket of biscuits away from himself. He brought his hands together on the table and looked at Wyatt. “I think it’s about the experience that life has to offer us.”

“Which is what, though? What experience? I slave away at stringing words together, and for what profit?”

“It’s beauty.”

“But if it’s all random, what beauty is there? We just work and then we die.”

If?” Dustin snickered. “There’s no if about it. It’s entirely and completely random chaos.”

Wyatt adjusted in his seat at the table as his friend’s mocking tone irritated him. “You’re laughing at the possibility of a Creator? Of a God, I take it?”

“Of course.”

He shook his head. “Why? Don’t you have a desire to know truth no matter what that truth is?”

“Well, yes, but some big white-haired guy in the sky being in charge of everything here on earth is laughable, Wyatt. You know that firsthand! If there were a ‘God’, there’s no way He’d let innocent people die! You’d still have your wife.”

Wyatt’s heart fell faint at Dustin’s mention of Stephanie. He could feel himself retreating within himself as his eyes traced the outline of the tablecloth fabric’s designs. Gently, he lifted his gaze to his friend. His voice weak but his words full of wonder, he glanced into his friend’s eyes. “I know the deepest of pain that life can offer, yet I can’t get it out of my heart that there might be something more going on here. Stephanie believed and lived and died for that belief. Beauty, whether it is lasting or not, does not come by chance but by desire being acted out in one’s life. There is a lot of pain in this world, but there is a mysterious beauty in it as well. Beauty by chance doesn’t add up.”


Frantically searching for her daughter’s diapers in the bedroom, Abigail was about to give up when she found the package tucked underneath her bed. Smiling as she grabbed them, she turned to her eighteen-month-old daughter, Kinsley, and raised her eyebrows.

“Did you hide your diapers under the bed again, Kinsley?”

Her daughter giggled and started for the door.

Hurrying to her feet, she caught her arm before she made it into the hallway. Scooping Kinsley up into her arms, she walked to the changing table.

Abigail’s sister Madelyn, whom she lived with, walked into the bedroom. “Did you need me to handle that? I don’t mind really if you need to get going to work. I do it all the time anyway, since you’re gone a lot.”

“I got it.”

“But don’t you have to shower before work?”

Stopping, Abigail turned her head toward her sister. “I said I got it.”

Raising her hands, Madelyn rolled her eyes as she turned to leave. “I’m just trying to help.”

As her sister left the room, Abigail’s heart grew faint. Living at her sister’s house was becoming more difficult by the day. She already didn’t like the fact that she had to leave Kinsley with her all day—that was bad enough—but now her sweet baby girl had started preferring the arms of her sister rather than her own. She felt like she was losing her daughter with each new day.

After taking the diaper to the trash outside the kitchen door downstairs, Abigail went into the laundry room where Madelyn was folding towels.

“I should have enough by the end of the month to move out.”

Her sister set the towel in her hands down as her eyes grew wide. “What? You’re leaving? Abigail! What did I do?”

“It’s not you, it’s me. I need to get out and on my own.”

“How can you afford to live on your own? Aren’t you poor?”

Abigail fought the urge to say what she felt but instead gave grace to her sister and explained. “I’ve been getting side jobs with my photography business lately. That, plus my regular pay at Thomas and Sons, should be enough.”

“And what about Kinsley? Will I still watch her while you’re at work? Surely, you cannot magically afford rent and daycare . . . that is, unless you found a sugar daddy, which is unlikely with your history.”

Abigail sighed, though she had another possibility in the works for a future date. Madelyn’s help and judgment were her only choice for now. “Yes. I’ll let you know if the plan changes.”

“Okay. I guess if that’s what you need to do, then do it.” Turning back to the towels, she started folding.

Abigail said her goodbyes to Kinsley then headed out the door to work. She worked as a receptionist down at Thomas and Sons Law Firm on Main Street in Lincoln City. After the lawyer she worked for, Mr. Dennis Gardener, left for court that morning at around eleven o’clock, a fellow receptionist and co-worker, but most importantly, one of her only friends at work, came over to her desk.

Abigail glanced up at her. “Good morning, Ranae. How are you, girl?”

“Great!” Ranae leaned in and lowered her voice. “So, I found that number of the lady who can babysit for you during the week. Do you still need it?”

“No, not yet. I’m still living with my sister, and that’d just be weird. I need to have more grace and try harder with her right now, anyway.”

“Okay. Hey. Did you hear about Tiffany?”

Peering toward the hallway that led down to Tiffany’s desk, another receptionist, she shook her head. “No . . .”

“She was laid off. Word on the street says there are more layoffs coming.”

Abigail’s heart flinched. “Tiffany worked here for fifteen years. A whole lot longer than me.”

“Me too!” Ranae peered over her shoulder for a moment then directed her attention back to Abigail. “Do you think Dennis will keep you?”

She sighed heavily as she pressed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t know . . .

“I don’t know about me, either.” She shook her head. “Scary times.”

Arriving home that evening late from work, around ten o’clock, Abigail felt mentally and physically exhausted. She made her way up the stairs to her and Kinsley’s bedroom.

“Abigail?” Madelyn’s voice stopped her from the bottom of the stairs.


“Could I talk to you for a moment?”

Uneasiness swooshed in Abigail’s stomach at her sister’s request. “Sure.”

Journeying back down the stairs, she walked with Madelyn into the kitchen.

“Me and Philip are going to a splash pad tomorrow with the kids and wanted to take Kinsley with us. I know it’s your day off, but I was thinking—”

Abigail held up a hand. “No.”

“But I know you’ve been working a lot, and I just thought you might want to relax.”


Madelyn pressed her lips together firmly and nodded slowly. “Okay. Sorry I asked.”

“You don’t need to apologize. The answer is just no.” Abigail turned and left the kitchen.

Pushing open the door of her bedroom, she walked into the room quietly. She set her purse down as she kicked off her heels and walked to the crib. Kinsley stirred and her eyes inched open.

Abigail glanced upward and lifted a prayer of praise to God. Thank You for this child, Lord . . . I don’t deserve such kindness as You give to me.

Scooping her daughter carefully into her arms, she brought her over to the bed and lay down. The moonlight shone through the window and onto her bed. Leaning her lips down to Kinsley’s forehead, she gently kissed her baby girl.

She whispered, “My darling, my love.

The smell of baby lotion penetrated Abigail’s nostrils. Madelyn must’ve bathed her tonight, she thought with a twinge of sadness weakening her heart. As a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye for all the missed memories with her daughter, she turned her eyes to the bright shining moon outside the window.

She began to pray. “My life is a wreck, but I know You love me. My baby girl doesn’t have a dad, but she does have a Heavenly Father. She has You, Lord. My heart feels so weak, God. So broken and worried about what the future holds. Strengthen me and help me during this uncertain time. I know the sweet love You rain down on me isn’t because I deserve it but because You care for me and love me. Thank You. Sometimes, it’s hard to remember You’re near, hard to sense Your love . . .”

Kinsley snuggled in closer to her and caused Abigail to pause. Her heart warmed.

“I love You, God. Thank You for giving me exactly what I need and not what I want. You know what’s best. Help me not to fear the future. Help me to trust in You.”


Unable to write more than a few hundred words the next morning, Wyatt took a break to search for his old journal he had jotted down notes in on several occasions. He wanted to thumb through it for inspiration. He searched his office high and low for the notebook. Then he took a trip downstairs and into his library. Walking into the library, he surveyed the mess of papers strewn across the large oak desk. He hadn’t seen those the day before when he had only come in to catch up on reading. Turning on a lamp on the desk, he started to clean the papers up as he searched the desk. He opened every drawer and even checked underneath the desk.

Still, no luck.

Peering up at the ceiling-high bookcases lining the walls, he wondered if he had accidentally left it tucked between one of the psychology books he had been reading for the last couple of months. He climbed the ladder up to his collection of psychology books and started to search between the spines. Suddenly, he remembered. He had left it out in the cottage last month when he had ventured out there looking for an old manuscript.

Getting down from the ladder, he went out the French doors in the living room that went into the back yard. Crossing the yard, he came down the slight incline to the cottage and went inside. Maneuvering between the stacks of dusty boxes, he came to the table in the kitchenette. Lifting the newspaper, he saw the black spiral notebook.

Picking it up, he made his way over to the sofa. Sitting down, he opened the notebook and began to peruse the pages.

A meow sounded from the open doorway of the cottage, and he glanced over to see Max jumping onto a stack of boxes.

Wyatt saw the boxes begin to wobble, and he leapt in an attempt to save them from crashing, but he wasn’t fast enough. They tumbled down and Max quickly lunged to safety away from the mess.

He got down on his knees and began to pick up the assortment of items—pots, pans, and other items a person would find in a kitchen. His heart weakened as memories flooded into his mind from days gone by with those items.

An image came clearly into focus as if it had just happened. His late wife, Stephanie, in their kitchen running water to fill a pot. Her turning and smiling at him as he walked into the room. He had just spent six hours working on a piece of problematic programming code on the mobile application he was developing and was famished.

Pushing the memory from his thoughts, Wyatt returned the contents of the box to their place and set them aside, then went back to the couch.

Another memory floated to the tip of his mind as he picked the notebook up into his hands. This time, it was the evening of their first night in Hawaii after Stephanie had officially become a doctor. That night on the beach with a woman and a child who had been hurt. He shoved the memory down and out of his thoughts quickly, knowing it had been the night that would eventually lead him to where he was now.

Smoothing a hand over his face, he shook his head, desiring only for the memories to stop their assault on his mind. Launching to his feet, he took his notebook and left the cottage, going back to his office inside his house.

He sat down in his office chair and began to thumb through a few more pages of the notebook.

Then another memory started to bubble to the surface. Before it could take full view in his mind’s eye, he threw the notebook across the room and turned to his keyboard. He placed his hands onto the keys, read the last sentence he had written, and then he started typing anything that would come out onto the keyboard. Each word he typed took him further away from the pain, from the memories, from the darkness. Each word took him deeper into the world where the pain could no longer touch him. It was there that Wyatt felt safe. It was there where Wyatt could pretend, even for just a while, that none of it had ever happened.



A Christian Romance Novel About Discovering Faith For The First Time

Good Christian romance novels need to show what it looks like when a person comes to faith in God and that’s what you’ll find when you pick up a copy of this T.K. Chapin novel. Real to life and inspirational, this romance will keep you turning the pages until the very end.

Through much prayer and consideration, T.K. Chapin has fashioned this story into a piece of Christian literature that will bless you in reading and encourage you in your walk with Christ.

About The Author

Christian Author T.K. Chapin Portrait

The Christian Author Who Keeps God At The Center Of Everything.

T.K. CHAPIN is an award-winning Inspirational Christian Romance and fiction author who designs his stories to inspire and tug on your heartstrings.

He believes that telling authentic stories of faith, love, and family helps build the faith of believers while inviting non-believers into the reality of God.

Each story highlights how God can work in the lives of those who follow Him.

Chapin gives all credit for his writing and storytelling abilities to God. The majority of his stories take place in and around his hometown of Spokane Washington.

Chapin & his wife reside in Southeast Idaho and have three children.

When not writing, he enjoys traveling, swimming, and spending time with friends & family.

Vision For Christian Romance Novels With Realistic Characters

Christian romance novels are often just about two people falling in love, but it goes far beyond just that in T.K. Chapin books.

Real-to-life stories about realistic people are in every single book that Chapin writes.

People struggle with their life and sometimes their faith, Chapin captures that in every story he tells.

If you’re looking for a Christian romance novel that not only entertains but also inspires, pick up a copy of one of the many titles T.K. Chapin has published.

The Vision

As a Christian author, speaker and entrepreneur, it’s T.K. Chapin’s hope and desire to help build the Kingdom of God for His glory alone. It’s through the stories, articles, and connections with others that this is made possible.

Additional information




Branch Publishing (June 16, 2020)

Publication date‏:‎

June 16, 2020



File size‏:‎

3329 KB

Simultaneous device usage‏:‎




Screen Reader‏:‎


Enhanced typesetting‏:‎




Word Wise‏:‎


Print length‏:‎

190 pages



Best Sellers Rank:

#173 in Contemporary Christian Fiction (Kindle Store)

Customer Reviews:

238 ratings