A young woman’s determination to help a lonely motel owner find a new home becomes the catalyst that changes many lives.
‘The Golden Hearts Club’, the debut novel by Cinda Swalley, is an inspiring story about love—where showing compassion toward others becomes a magical experience and changes people’s lives—even when they’re strangers. This spicy family saga takes you on a sensual, horse-whispering journey that shares the bond between two sisters, the generosity of strangers, and portrays a family’s devotion to their homestead and the horses they raise.
The adventure of Katie and Megan Summers on a cross-country road trip lays the foundation for unexpected situations and life-long friendships when a warm-hearted American Indian woman, a jovial southern housekeeper, the intrigue of a California horse ranch and a loving family all merge into a lively and emotional story about the strength of family bonds, the power of hope, and finding love when it’s least expected.
Impulsive detours lead them to an unlikely destination and things get complicated when they trespass on a California horse ranch. Suddenly they are entangled with a family of a pharmaceutical empire that also includes a world of deception and family struggles. But when a tragic accident threatens to shatter many lives, the family unites to help a young woman they hardly know.
‘The Golden Hearts Club’ is a heartfelt story inspired by a life shaped by curiosity, connection, and kindness. Raised in rural Ohio, Cinda grew up grounded in family and community before a spontaneous cross-country road trip with her sister sparked a life of adventure. That journey led her to become a flight attendant, traveling across Europe and Africa and even attending Paris Fashion Week—experiences that deeply influenced her perspective on empathy, human connection, and the small moments that bring people together.
Cinda’s novel celebrates family, empathy, and the small acts of kindness that make a meaningful impact. Beyond the book, the author actively encourages readers and communities to turn compassion into real-world action.
We had the opportunity to share an excerpt from Chapter 3 in ‘The Golden Hearts Club’ with our readers below.
THE YOUTH HOSTEL book noted there were rooms available at an old motel in Tonopah, Arizona, just west of Phoenix. Megan decided to stop there because Katie needed to be in bed. If her sister wasn’t better by tomorrow, they would have to find a doctor.
Megan drove to the corner of Seventh and Wright Street as the book directed. She was astonished when the dilapidated building came into view. The structure looked like it was a hundred years old and should be condemned. The one-story adobe building was probably once painted with fresh white paint, but now the exterior walls were a dingy color of brown, dust-covered, and weather-beaten. Heavy wooden beams beside each door were rough-sawn by hand and still looked sturdy enough to support the rickety building.
Near the side of the building stood a huge old tree, weary with years of drought. Large gnarly limbs bent in various directions, and a hole in the side of the tree showed where another giant limb once resided. Small branches and broken pieces of the tree still lay randomly on the ground where they fell, seemingly many years ago. Tumble weeds danced through the dusty parking area, and near the lobby entrance was a large broken wagon wheel propped up against an old horse trough.
One of the doors opened slowly, and a timeworn American Indian woman stepped out. She wiped her hands on the apron that covered her tattered dress. Her long gray hair was twisted in a single braid that reached to the middle of her back. She stepped closer to the car and peered through the window.
“You girls need somethin’?” the woman asked in a low-pitched voice.
“This motel is listed as a Youth Hostel. Do you have any rooms available?” Megan asked.
“No. This place has been shut down a long time.” When the lady bent over to look inside the car, she saw Katie’s tired eyes looking back at her.
“My sister is sick and needs to rest. We would appreciate a room.”
The woman hesitated a minute and then inspected the girls more closely. She noticed the car was full of travel gear and she glanced at the red storage box attached to the top of the car.
“Well, there’s a room there.” The woman pointed toward the old building. “Has a fireplace and running water. There ain’t no heat. I reckon you both can stay there. It’ll be ten dollars for the night.”
Calmly retrieving cash from her wallet, Megan handed it to the lady. The woman folded the money and placed it in her pocket, then pointed again to the available room. “It ain’t locked. You’ll have to fetch wood for the fire out back. The woman glanced back at the girls, then walked away.
Megan stepped into the room and held the door open for Katie. The building was ancient, and the wooden floor creaked as they walked across it. She turned on the light beside the bed and looked around the room. Everything in the room seemed to be perfectly placed and was probably once very pretty. The floral curtains in the windows were faded from years of sun exposure, and they matched the equally washed-out bedspreads.
Two twin beds were arranged on one wall, and in front of them were two comfortable chairs nestled near the fireplace. When she walked in the bathroom, she saw the aged fixtures and the rust-stained sink, but there was water—extremely cold water.
“Take your shoes off and lie down. I’ll get some wood and bring in the sleeping bags.”
Nodding her head in agreement, Katie walked across the room, pulled back the covers on the bed, and slipped between the sheets. She was asleep before Megan returned.
Megan entered the room several times, bringing in sleeping bags and an extra blanket, granola bars, cheese and crackers, and two cans of soup. She placed another blanket over Katie and noticed she was shivering while beads of sweat were forming on her forehead.
Getting the chilly room heated up was essentia,l so Megan quickly left the room. She grabbed the flashlight from the car and walked around the back of the building to look for wood to build the fire. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but the clouds soon parted and the partial moon lit up the night. The property appeared to be completely abandoned. Thrown around randomly were clay pots, glass jars, stacks of newspapers, and piles of old ropes. A broken-down trailer tilted awkwardly without a wheel, and nearby, old tires were stacked in a disheveled pile.
As she walked a little farther, she tripped over a wooden box and picked it up to use to carry the wood. There was a lot of wood stacked around in random piles. Some of it appeared to be specifically cut for firewood, but many pieces were flat and looked partially burned. She tripped over an old metal pail that was perfect for heating water. After several trips outside, Megan had collected enough wood to keep them warm for a week.
After arranging the wood in the fireplace and watching the fire begin to blaze, Megan looked around the cozy room. Every item was special, from the framed paintings and antique wooden lamps to the faded floral curtains and matching bedspreads. It was apparent that someone once took enormous pride in this motel. Wiping the dust from the table, she picked up a pack of matches from the glass ashtray. The front of the matchbook read: Wagonwheel Inn, Tonopah, Arizona.
The bottom flap read: A Nice Place to Visit. Slipping the matches into her pocket, she sat in the chair by the fireplace and covered her legs with a blanket. The warm flames performed a wild dance on her pale face and into her blank, worried eyes. She waited as Katie slept, and she soon fell into a sound sleep.
