Spotlight: Love, Secrets and Absolution by K.L. Loveley

Love, Secrets and Absolution
K.L. Loveley
Publication date: November 1st 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary

People in the village gossip and say that Grace’s long-awaited son Alfie is “different”. He is a lonely boy with secrets, lies and obsessive thoughts.

How far can a mother’s unconditional love go? Will she ultimately sacrifice her life for his?

Set in Nottinghamshire, England – this gripping psychological drama follows the lives of Grace and her son Alfie, who transforms from a naïve boy to a University student spiralling out of control. A coming-of-age story with a difference.
A family falling apart: deceit, betrayal, teenage angst, love and addiction.

Will anybody find absolution?

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EXCERPT:

As the snowflakes fell, Grace shivered and instinctively stroked her bulging baby bump. Last night’s heavy snowfall was unusual for March and had taken everyone by surprise, including Grace who was ill prepared for the long walk to the doctor’s surgery. Underneath her unbuttoned teal blue Dannimac coat, she wore a hand-knitted cardigan and a velour maternity dress. Her swollen feet were uncomfortable in the brown moccasin boots she had squeezed them into. She sighed out loud. It’s going to be a cold and miserable trek to the baby clinic, she thought.

As soon as Grace stepped into the doctor’s surgery, the warm air hit her and she instantly became relaxed. She notified the receptionist of her presence and sat down on a brown utilitarian chair. As she gazed around the small waiting room she acknowledged the other mums-to-be, all of whom were younger than her. ‘Ayup, Grace, not long now eh, till your baby’s due,’ said a red-haired girl wearing a bright orange maternity dress. Just then, Grace experienced a sharp kick from her baby, she smiled and lovingly stroked her baby bump.

‘Shouldn’t be too long now,’ she replied.

The matronly midwife measured her baby bump to calculate the fundal height, and advised that according to her calculations the due date was today! However, after completing a multitude of other examinations, the midwife declared with some trepidation that Grace wouldn’t be giving birth just yet. ‘Your baby is a stubborn one and definitely nowhere near ready to come. Ain’t got its head engaged yet.’ the midwife chortled. Grace became frustrated, what did the midwife mean by “head not engaged”?

As Grace set off home and waded through the snowy village, she kept thinking of this strange terminology. She was so engrossed in her thoughts, that she lost concentration and tripped on a broken paving slab hidden beneath the snow. She fell onto the wet, cold, ground in an uncompromising position. With her coat spread out across the glistening snow, and her olive green maxi dress sprawled around her, she looked just like a huge beached whale.

Fortunately, one of her husband’s work colleagues’ drove by on his way to the afternoon shift down the mine. Laurence stopped the car and assisted Grace to her feet, ‘Please don’t mention this to Paul, I don’t want him worrying,’ pleaded Grace. However, her words must have fallen on deaf or mischievous ears, for within the hour, her husband arrived home with an anxious look on his face.

‘The whole colliery knows about your tumble, Grace. Laurence put it on the Tannoy system for me to go home as soon as possible, to look after you,’ he said whilst composing himself. ‘I felt sick with worry on hearing the message. All of my mates ushered me off the coal face with as much speed as one would expect in a colliery emergency and they send their regards. You should have seen the gaffers face, it was a sight to behold!’ He stated. ‘Not to worry,’ he said, ‘my shift was coming to an end anyway.’

Paul had rushed home still covered in black coal dust, his eyes rimmed with thick black lines, which almost looked like skilfully applied kohl eyeliner. He looked rather attractive she thought, almost exotic looking, deep, and interesting with the sooty lashes framing his soft brown eyes. ‘No time for a shower I’m afraid, not when my first child might have a rude awakening from his comfort zone and make an imminent arrival.’

Author Bio:

K.L Loveley is a former nurse, who has seen, heard, and dealt with a wide range of medical, social and family dramas. She has used her nursing experience, along with her excellent people-watching skills to create fascinating characters and intriguing scenarios within her books. She writes contemporary fiction, psychological dramas, and poetry.

Her debut novel Alice was published in February 2017, and the story tackles alcoholism head-on and presents the reader with an empathetic account of a spiraling addiction and the resulting pattern of hopelessness that many fall into.

K.L Loveley’s second novel Love, Secrets, and Absolution: An emotional and gripping psychological, family drama’ is a coming of age story with a difference. Deceit, betrayal, love, and addiction, this story is about a family falling apart in the midst of teenage angst and torn loyalties.

If you enjoy reading authors like Jodi Picoult and Diane Chamberlain, you will enjoy K.L Loveley!

K.L Loveley lives in Nottinghamshire, England and loves socializing with friends and family. She is an avid reader and enjoys a variety of genres including psychological, thrillers and historical fiction. Her favorite authors include John le Carré, K.L Slater, Marian Keyes and Philippa Gregory.

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Cover Reveal: Beneath the Lighthouse by Julieanne Lynch

Beneath the Lighthouse
Julieanne Lynch
Publication date: TBA
Genres: Horror, Young Adult

SOME SECRETS ARE MADE TO BE UNCOVERED.

Sixteen-year-old Jamie McGuiness’s sister is dead. Sinking into a deep depression, he frequents the lighthouse where her body was discovered, unaware of the sinister forces surrounding him.

When an angry spirit latches onto Jamie, he’s led down a dark and twisted path, one that uncovers old family secrets, destroying everything Jamie ever believed in.

Caught between the world of the living and the vengeful dead, Jamie fights the pull of the other side. It’s up to Jamie to settle old scores or no one will rest in peace—but, first, he has to survive.

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Author Bio:

Julieanne Lynch is an author of urban fantasy and contemporary fiction for both adults and teens. Julieanne lives in Northern Ireland, with her husband and five children, where she works on novels full-time. Before becoming a writer, she considered a few different career paths, a rock star being one of them. She studied English Literature and Creative Writing at The Open University and considered journalism as a career path. However, she decided writing was the way for her and is thankful for each day she lives her dream.

Julieanne is represented by Italia Gandolfo of Gandolfo Helin & Fountain Literary Management, and is both traditionally and independently published.

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Spotlight: Sugarplum Way by Debbie Mason

Romance writer Julia Landon knows how to write a happily-ever-after. Creating one for herself is a whole different story. But after a surprising--and surprisingly passionate--kiss under the mistletoe at Harmony Harbor's holiday party last year, Julia thought she might have finally found her very own chance at true love. Until she learns her Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broodingly Handsome has sworn off relationships. Well, if she can't have him in real life, Julia knows just how to get the next best thing....
 
Aidan's only priority is to be the best single dad ever. And this year, he plans to make the holidays magical for his little girl, Ella Rose. But visions of stolen kisses under the mistletoe keep dancing in his head, and when he finds out Julia has written him into her latest novel, he can't help imagining the possibilities of a future together. Little does he know, though, Julia has been keeping a secret that threatens all their dreams. Luckily, 'tis the season for a little Christmas magic.

Excerpt

Aidan smiled that slow, sexy smile of his just before he lifted his gun and fired. The glass shattered, and the. . .

A shrill beeping sound pulled Julia out of the story. Startled, she jumped. Her initial thought was that she’d put on the teapot and had forgotten to turn off the burner. She blinked and opened her eyes. She’d been trying to get deeper into her character’s point of view by typing with her eyes closed. It hadn’t worked as well as she’d hoped. But it had ensured that she didn’t see the smoke . . . Smoke! There was smoke filling her living room. Again.

Duckety, duck, duck, duck. 

The annoying voice on the smoke detector bleated fire, fire.

“Julia, open the damn door!”

            Frantically searching under the papers littering her desk for her cell phone, she ignored the voice. Though she was impressed. It was amazing how real Adrian sounded. Like he was right outside . . . Wait a minute. He was calling her name, not Gillian’s. Crap, it was Aidan. Double crap, she knew why he was here. She’d thought she’d have until morning to face him.

            “Hang on! I—” She heard a loud bang at the same time she found her phone. “I’m coming!” she called, running to the outside entry door as she punched in the assigned number for the alarm company.

At the same time she realized there was no dial tone, Aidan kicked in her door. It bounced off the wall and the hulking shadow of a man filled the open doorway. If she hadn’t recognized his voice, she’d be terrified. Given the intimidating expression on his face, she wondered if maybe she should still be afraid.

            Fire, the smoke detector bleated again. Right, fire, smoke. “Hurry, I need your phone!” She made grabby motions with her fingers.

            He looked at her like she’d lost it and strode into the room. “Your alarm is connected to the station. They’ll be on their way. Where’s the fire? Do you have an extinguisher?”

            “No, no, I don’t need the fire department. I need your phone.” She rushed forward. He didn’t seem to understand the urgency of the situation, and she began patting him down.

            He reached in his pocket, punching in a code before handing her his phone. Of course his would be password protected.

            “Thanks,” she said to his back as he prowled around her apartment, no doubt looking for the source of the smoke. “Um, I think my nachos are on fire.”

She made a face at his muttered, “You have got to be shitting me.” And then went to look up the alarm company’s number on her phone, only to realize she couldn’t access it because her cell was dead. “Duck.”

She raced to her desk searching for the alarm company’s business card while muttering to herself, “I need the number. Where would I put the number for the alarm company? Laptop. Of course.” Laptop, no! It was on and open for him to see. She slammed the lid shut at the same time the oven door bang closed.

Aidan strode from the kitchen wearing her burned oven mitt and carrying a charbroiled tray of smoking ash. “It’s usually on the unit,” he said dryly before heading out the door.

Which went to prove that the man didn’t miss a thing, even her half-whispered conversation with herself.

At the return of his heavy footsteps, she turned her back to her desk, attempting to use her body as a shield. Widening her stance and her arms, she wrapped her fingers around the edge of the desk and leaned back in hopes of concealing any evidence of her book from his all-seeing cop’s eyes. 

            He glanced at her and then did a double take. She thought she heard a muttered, “Jesus,” before he retrieved his phone from her hand and continued across the living room, dodging a basket of laundry, a box of decorations she’d yet to put up on the tree, and a half-eaten bowl of cereal.

Wondering what was with the double take, she looked around. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Sure her place was a little messy, but he was a guy. He probably wouldn’t even notice. She thought of something he might notice and looked down.

Yep, that was probably the reason for the look. It was obvious she was cold, and her body-hugging black T-shirt read “Santa’s Favorite Ho” with the jolly old elf ho, ho, hoing, paired with black-and-white plaid flannel sleep pants.

When Aidan reached the other side of the living room, he placed the cell phone between his shoulder and ear and raised the window. “Yeah, it’s Aidan Gallagher. The call from 232 Main Street is a false alarm. That’s her. Five times, is that so? I’ll tell her, thanks.”

            “It wasn’t five false alarms. It was four.” She faced her desk to quickly bury a paperback copy of Warrior’s Kiss and her contract for Warrior’s Touch under some paper and turn her notepad upside down while doing a visual search for any other incriminating evidence.

“Doesn’t matter. You still broke the record for false alarms in a six-week timeframe. Dispatch says Mrs. Rosenbloom had three.”

“Are they charging me?”

“No” He answered his ringing phone and then bowed his head. “Hello, Dad. Yes, she’s fine. Is that right? Nachos. No, smoke’s not too bad. Okay, I’ll do that. Don’t remind me,” he grumbled and then disconnected.

Whatever his dad said to Aidan didn’t improve his already not-so-happy mood. She really didn’t feel like talking about the suggestion she’d made to Harper and why. Fending off his probing questions would be difficult, and she wasn’t exactly equipped to handle him tonight. She was tired, and her throat had passed sore an hour before. 

 “I really appreciate you dropping by, but it’s late, and I have an early day.” She forced a smile and moved to see him . . . out her broken door. She barely managed to stifle an anguished moan. She couldn’t face the thought of dealing with repairing the door tonight.

He lifted his chin to the left of the kitchen. “Is that your bedroom?”

She ignored her inner hussy who yelled who needs a bed and suggested Julia throw herself on the floor at his feet. Her inner hussy was way more optimistic about their chances of getting lucky tonight.

“Yes, but I don’t see . . . What do you think you’re doing?” she said as he walked over and opened her bedroom door. Umm, more like shoved it open. The clothes that had been hanging over her door this morning had fallen off when she closed it, and she’d been running late.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you said to Harper and why. You’re tired? Fine, you can talk to me from your bed while I fix your door.” He looked around her bedroom. “If we can find your bed.”

She grabbed a pink lacy bra off the doorknob and held it behind her back. “I’ve been busy. I haven’t had time to tidy up.”

“What, like in a year?”

“Very funny. I’m sure your room isn’t any better.”

“Sugarplum, my bedroom didn’t look this bad when I was a kid.”

She kind of liked that he called her sugarplum but could do without the sarcasm. She scooted past him to scoop up her bras and panties and any other embarrassing items that were lying on the floor . . . and on the bed . . . and on her dresser. And half sticking out of her nightstand drawer! As breezily as she could, she moved to the front of the nightstand in hopes of blocking his view. “It’s a little smoky in here. Maybe you should open that window too?”

She smiled. He sighed.

As soon as his back was turned, she thigh-checked the nightstand drawer closed. Only it didn’t close. Instead it acted like a rocket launcher, and her fluorescent pink vibrator sailed through the air to land with a splash in the goldfish bowl sitting on the bench at the end of her bed. Her mouth fell open, and then she covered it, releasing a muffled, “I’ve killed Eric and Ariel!”

Aidan looked from the fish bowl to her and started to laugh, a deep rumbly sound that she would have enjoyed if it wasn’t at her expense and if . . . “It’s not funny! My fish are drowning. Save them!”

That made him laugh harder, and his shoulders started to shake. “Death by vibrator. Not a bad way to go.”
             “That’s a horrible thing to say, Aidan Gallagher.” She cautiously removed the vibrator from the water, her shoulders sagging in relief when Erik and Ariel swam to the surface. “And FYI, this is not a vibrator. It’s a personal massager.” She rubbed it against the back of her neck. “See, you should try it.”

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About the Author

Debbie Mason is the USA Today bestselling author of the Christmas, Colorado and Harmony Harbor series. Her books have been praised for their "likable characters, clever dialogue and juicy plots" (RT Book Reviews). When she isn't writing or reading, Debbie enjoys spending time with her very own real-life hero, three wonderful children, two adorable grandbabies, and a yappy Yorkie named Bella in Ontario, Canada.

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Spotlight: To Marry a Texas Outlaw by Linda Broday

Three Brothers. One Oath.
No Compromises.
The MEN of LEGEND

The Outlaw

Outlaw Luke Weston survives by his wits. On the run for a murder he didn’t commit, the last thing he needs is to go looking for more trouble. But when Luke stumbles across a fiercely beautiful woman struggling against two heavily armed men, it’s obvious that trouble has found him.

After all, he never could resist a damsel in distress.

Josie Morgan’s distressed, all right—and hopping mad. She has no idea why she’s been kidnapped…or who she is…or why her body melts for the mysterious gunslinger who saved her life. But as the lost memories come tumbling back together, Josie is faced with the stark reality of why she and Luke can never be…even as her heart is telling her she will always be his.

Excerpt

Lawmen surrounded the wagon and forced them to stop.

“Morning, gentlemen,” Luke drawled. “Mind getting out of our way?”

“We’re looking for a woman.” The old sheriff had a crooked nose that must’ve been broken countless times.

“The only one I’ve seen is—”

“Me. His wife,” Rose interrupted and gazed with what she hoped was adoration up at Luke. “Don’t be shy saying it, sweetheart. But it’s still sort of new, I reckon.” She cupped his jaw and turned to the riders. “You see, we were married two weeks ago and we’re on our honeymoon. My darling sugarplum promised to take me to Fort Worth.”

She pressed her lips to his in a long, searing kiss. He didn’t respond for a moment, then shock and thrilling tingles rippled over her as he kissed her back. When she parted her mouth, he slipped his tongue inside as bold as you please. His hand curled just under her breast and sent waves of aching hunger through her.

“Ahem,” one of lawmen said. “We need a word if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, dear sir, but we do mind,” she murmured against Luke’s mouth. “Very strenuously.”

“Damn, woman,” Luke whispered. “Aren’t you overdoing it?”

“Me?” she argued low. “What was the tongue for?”

“Added effect.” His eyes held a devilish gleam.

“Sorry, ma’am,” another of the posse tried. “Give us a quick word and we’ll be on our way.”

Luke raised his head. “My wife Rose is very…passionate. Why are you looking for this other woman?”

“She murdered her husband last night, mister.”

Rose gasped. “My heavens, how horrible. Did she shoot him?”

“Oh no, ma’am, nothing that tame,” said the lawman with the mole. “She gutted him.”

“Where did this take place?” Luke asked, nuzzling Rose’s neck.

“Doan’s Crossing.”

Rose stiffened in panic.

“Careful,” Luke whispered. “Just a little longer.”

“Do you know her name by chance?” Rose asked quietly.

“Josie. Josie Morgan,” the man answered. “From the description, she’s the spitting image of you, ma’am.”

She shivered even as Luke’s arm tightened around her. Could she have done something like that? Was she a murderess?

“If we happen to spot her, we’ll report it to the first lawman,” Luke promised. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have somewhere to be and my wife, bless her sweet soul, is a very impatient woman.” He winked at the posse. “You fellows remember what it was like to be newly married, don’t you?”

A murmur of agreement came from the group.

Rose glanced down and her heart pounded to see the duster had slipped, exposing a big portion of her bloody skirt. Slowly, so as not to draw the lawmen’s gaze, she tried to tug the shield back into place.

“Say, don’t I know you, mister?” One of the lawmen in the back, a younger man, moved forward, staring at Luke. “What’s your name?”

Rose held her breath as Luke’s hand inched slowly down toward his Colt. Desperate to draw the riders’ attention, she loosened the top buttons of her dress and moved the fabric aside. “My goodness, I’m so hot!” She touched her cheek with a fingertip and drew it painstakingly down the long column of her throat, past her collarbone and into her cleavage. The young lawman swallowed hard.

“Name’s Jones. I’m from Tascosa,” Luke drawled. “The town’s wild and woolly but it’s where I met my beautiful Rose and tied the knot.”

“I never thought I’d ever find such a handsome man to give me a second look.” Rose batted her eyelashes. “Ours is a match made in heaven.”

“I must be mistaken.” The young man turned aside, mumbling to himself.

The hawk-nosed marshal leaned over. “There’s a lot of blood on your dress, ma’am. What happened?”

Panic raced through Rose. “Blood? Oh, good heavens no!” She forced a giggle. “This is nothing but red mud. My mama always complained about the North Texas red dirt and was never able to get it to wash out of anything.”

The marshal’s white brow lifted in apparent skepticism.

Luke quietly added, “My wife likes to make love in the…uh, creek. It’s really embarrassing to talk about.”

She patted his vest. “Sweetheart, these men don’t have time to be gossiping like that! They simply have to find that Morgan woman before she kills again.”

The men shook their heads, chuckling, but one leaned forward for a better view.

“Sorry to have held you up.” The old sheriff touched the brim of his hat and the group galloped off, kicking up a cloud of dust around the wagon.

Luke jiggled the reins and the team began to move. “What the hell was that back there?”

Her spine stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“Attacking me like that.”

“Wait one minute. If I recall, you didn’t appear to object.”

“You enjoyed every second of that,” Luke accused.

“And you didn’t?”

Luke glanced back to check on the lawmen. “Where did that performance come from?”

“I noticed a spark of recognition in that young one’s eyes and I knew I had to save you. He was a step away from arresting you.” She thought he’d at least be grateful for her efforts.

“Don’t ever try to save me again.” Luke’s voice held a sharp edge. “I’ll only get you hurt—or dig you a grave.”

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About the Author

At a young age, Linda Broday discovered a love for storytelling, history, and anything pertaining to the Old West. Cowboys fascinate her. There’s something about Stetsons, boots, and tall rugged cowboys that get her fired up. A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Linda has won many awards, including the prestigious National Readers’ Choice Award and the Texas Gold Award. She resides in the Texas Panhandle and is inspired every day.

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Spotlight: Lethal Lies by Rebecca Zanetti

A deadly secret can't stay buried forever . . . 

Revenge. It's the only thing that will help Anya Best sleep at night. The serial killer who murdered her sister is on the loose, and Anya will stop at nothing to put him behind bars—even use herself as bait to lure him out of hiding. But she can't do this alone.

Private investigator Heath Jones's job is to bring bastards to justice. This time it's personal. He knew the Copper Killer's latest victim so when her sister asks for his help, he's all in. But when Anya uses the media to taunt the killer, she exposes Heath's identity, putting them both in jeopardy. Now, secrets buried long ago are coming to light and the forces determined to destroy him are watching Heath's every move, waiting to exact their own revenge. And they'll use anything and anyone to get to Heath.

Excerpt

She swallowed and met his gaze. “All right. Let me get this straight. We’re going undercover to flush out a killer who’s obsessed with me, and you’re offering to play at being my man for real with no strings or future?” She hoisted the bag onto her shoulder. “That’s some ego. Are you that good in bed?”

“Yes.” And that was definite interest in her eyes.

She clicked her tongue. “I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

“You do that.” He maintained a low and calm voice. “While you’re considering, let’s look at the situation. You have publicly made me your fiancé in order to draw out a killer, which means I have to act as such. Any halfway intelligent law enforcement officer or private investigator would keep his redheaded fiancée very close after the stunt you just pulled. If you’re not with me, the killer is going to be very suspicious.”

She stilled, expressions crossing her face rapidly. “That’s a good point,” she said slowly.

Yeah. Sometimes reality helped him out a little. Plus, the killer had a hard-on for her, and he must already have plans to take her at some point. She’d just upped the timeline. “In addition, you need protection around the clock now, and I’m willing to provide that. So while you’re keeping my offer in mind, we’ll be staying in the same hotel room or same apartment.” He made sure he had her full attention. “While we plan the wedding, of course.”

Her challenging smile thrilled something inside him. “That’s fair.”

He stepped back to give her some space. “Good. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She looked around the room. “I do have to ask. What if I didn’t agree with you about your keeping secrets from me? Considering people shoot at you, and I’m going to be at your side, it seems fair that you tell me who these people are.” She cocked her head to the side and focused back on him.

“I have more immediate concerns than being fair,” he said smoothly. “You brought me into this mess.”

A frown drew down her eyebrows. “Listen. I want an answer about you.”

“I just gave you one.” At her mulish expression, he searched for better words that wouldn’t end in an argument.

Suddenly, the door blew wide open and bounced loudly off the table. “Anya!” he yelled, jumping for her.

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About the Author

Rebecca Zanetti is the author of over twenty-five romantic suspense, dark paranormal, and contemporary romances, and her books have appeared multiple times on the New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon bestseller lists. She has received a Publisher's Weekly Starred Review for Wicked Edge, Romantic Times Reviewer Choice Nominations for Forgotten Sins and Sweet Revenge, and RT Top Picks for several of her novels.  She lives in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest with her own alpha hero, two kids, a couple of dogs, a crazy cat...and a huge extended family.  She believes strongly in luck, karma, and working her butt off...and she thinks one of the best things about being an author, unlike the lawyer she used to be, is that she can let the crazy out.

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Read an exclusive excerpt from Fired by Cora Brent

Still reeling from a nasty divorce, Melanie Cruz’s pride takes another beating when she loses her enviable job at an upscale resort. After a flurry of unsuccessful interviews, she finally—desperately—accepts a job managing a small chain of family-owned pizzerias in a quaint downtown Phoenix neighborhood. The job also comes with Dominic Esposito, her overbearing but ridiculously handsome boss. Falling for him might be the last thing she expects, but maybe it’s the one thing she needs.

As hard as they try to resist, Melanie and Dominic embark on a romance as hot as a brick oven, and Melanie has every reason to believe that maybe, this time, she’s finally found “the one.”

But Dominic has a secret—one even his family doesn’t know. And the scandal could threaten everything he and Melanie have worked for…in business and in love.

Exclusive Excerpt

"Now what’ll you have? I’m betting your tastes are somewhat diverse, maybe some pineapple, a few peppers. Tell me I’m close.” 

“Not at all,” she laughed and looked up at me, shaking her hair out of her eyes. That hair, so dark and thick. It always seemed to be everywhere and always smelled like orange blossoms. “My preferences for pizza are simple, like my preferences for life.” 

I sprinkled a generous helping of shredded mozzarella. “Is your life simple, Mel?” 

“It is now—just me and my cats.” She groaned. “God, that sounds pathetic, doesn’t it?” 

“Humble. Not pathetic.” 

“I made a huge mistake when I married James,” she said suddenly. 

“You can tell me about it,” I said. “If you want to.” 

Melanie stared down at the dough and talked slowly, haltingly. “It was a really stupid decision. My folks had just died, and the guy I’d been dating in college decided he needed to be a hero. I was a fool to say yes. Neither one of us knew what we were getting into, and it didn’t last.” She sighed again. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll end up joining the cynics.” 

“The who?” 

She gave me a rueful grin. “The cynics. The scoffers who don’t believe in romantic ideals and argue that it takes two years and a lot of agony to properly fall in love.” She shrugged. “At least the mistake with James taught me a few valuable life lessons about blind trust and believing in heroes.” 

I didn’t like hearing that from her. Melanie deserved optimism and hope, not wariness and suspicion. I didn’t know everything, but I’d seen enough to understand that she was as kind as she was beautiful. She was as smart as she was stubborn. She went out of her way to make each member of the staff feel valued and respected. She genuinely cared when her bad-tempered boss carelessly cut his hand open. She took the time to escort confused old ladies to the restroom even when she had a million other things going on. A woman like that deserved to be wined and dined and held and worshipped. She deserved every ounce of romance that could be squeezed out of this uncertain universe. 

“Maybe,” I said slowly, “you need something more practical than a hero.” 

Melanie watched me slide a pizza peel under the raw pie and then expertly deposit it into the mouth of the oven. The fire was stronger than it ought to be. I’d need to keep an eye on the pizza, or it would burn. 

“More practical than a hero?” she repeated. 

I faced her. “That’s right.” 

“And I suppose you have a suggestion.” 

I hung the pizza peel on a hook and took a step in her direction. “One or two.” 

Melanie licked her lips. “Tell me.” 

I looked her in the eye. “I’d rather show you.” 

Her blue eyes widened, and her breath hitched, just enough for me to notice. “Then show me,” she said without a waver. 

Those were bold words from her. But she knew as well as I did that this little dance we’d been spinning through was coming to an end. After weeks of holding back, her words were all I needed to hear to let go. 

Two more steps and I was close enough to touch her. When I ran a fingertip along the delicate line of her jaw, she shut her eyes and exhaled raggedly. 

Without saying a word, I eased around behind her and closed in, inhaling the heat of her body. She didn’t resist at all when I turned her around until she was facing the counter. I slid my arms around her waist. If either of us had spoken right then, the spell might have been broken, but she said nothing, not even when I pressed my chest against her back.

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About the Author

Cora Brent is the USA Today and New York Times bestselling author of the Gentry Boys series. She was born in a cold climate but escaped as soon as it was legally possible. These days, she lives in the Arizona desert with her husband, two kids, and a prickly pear cactus she has affectionately named “Spot.” Cora’s closet is filled with boxes of unfinished stories that date back to her 1980s childhood (someday she fully intends to finish her first masterpiece about a pink horse that plays baseball), but in the meantime, she’s consumed with her romance novels. 

For more on the author and her work, visit www.corabrent.com, or connect with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/CoraBrentAuthor.

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