Spotlight: Perfect Grump by Nicole Snow

Publication date: August 19th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

Wall Street Journal bestselling author Nicole Snow returns with a laugh-out-loud wild office romance where two total opposites fight to deny their perfect chemistry.

I’ve caught a raging case of bosshole.
Signing on as a company driver for Brandt Ideas felt like a dream.
Big-girl salary. Stellar benefits. Glorious people—minus one.
Nicholas Brandt was put on Earth to drive me insane.
Of course, he’s my bossman.

He spent the first month mistaking me for a dude.
Then he “apologized” with the grace of a drunken moose.
A perfect grump with a brutal reputation.
A heart-thief sculpted like a fallen angel.
A master at making me question all of my life decisions.

Why is it always the terrible ones who make a girl tingle?
The longer I’m stuck with Satan in endless Chicago traffic, the faster he wears me down.
When he needs a “date” at this rich-people charity dance, I crack.

I say yes.
I kiss my incurable, broken, off-limits boss—and God help me, I like it.
I invite disasters fated to rip my heart out.
And just when Nick Brandt can’t cut my life into tinier confetti, the unthinkable does.
Guess who wants to save me.
Now guess how much barbed wire I’ve got to keep Mr. Anti-Perfect in exile…

Full-length enemies-to-lovers romance overflowing with hilarious quips, teary-eyed twists, and slow-burn steam that sizzles off the pages. A magnificently bad-tempered boss pursues his spitfire driver in a knock down, claiming, need-you-to-live whirlwind to the Happily Ever After.

Excerpt

I’m in the arms of Chicago’s hottest billionaire bad boy. Only, he’s no bad boy, no scandalicious ticket to tabloid-worthy misadventures.

He’s morphed into Prince Charming. He’s too well-behaved.

I’m scared.

“Hey, Nick?” I whisper.

“Yeah?” His warm minty scent tickles my nostrils, a rich cologne tinged with a hint of his sweat and heady testosterone.

“What’s really going on?”

He looks down at me, his head tilted. “What do you mean? Last I checked, you lied about how much you suck at dancing, Reese. Everybody’s watching us and they love it.”

Not what I’m getting at.

I’m about to ask what I’m really here for tonight and why, because it’s obvious to me there’s more going on here.

This doesn’t add up, and it’s not my paranoia speaking.

Yes, I’m playing a part—his fake date.

I’m here, spinning in this beautiful ballroom, hanging on his arm. I’m not even freaking out as we fade into each other, as he enthralls me a little more with every breath, or when people start aiming their phones at us for pictures.

But this isn’t what we’re here for. I’m guessing everyone in this room has an opinion of Nick Brandt, one way or another. We’re not here to impress them.

Who, then? What? Why?

Before I can ask, the lights go lower. The dancing turns infectious, and we’re surrounded by gently twisting bodies, happy couples glued to each other’s eyes and following his lead. Our lead.

A few of those couples wear their desire, their love, full of longing looks and knowing glances and wandering hands.

Oh, God.

Maybe it’s the atmosphere or maybe it’s his smell, but before I know what I’m doing, I’ve leaned my head on his chest. And then I’m just lost in the moment, his willing captive, too overwhelmed for words when his thick hand caresses my face.

His fingers dip under my chin, urging me up to a beautiful doom.

It’s in those eyes. They glow like soft green stars, intense and urgent, asking a silent question—or is it a demand?

What will you do, Miss Halle? I hear him saying in my head. What will you do if I take that mouth right here? Right now?

My toes scrunch up in my shoes. Our movement slows, our eyes lock, our breaths turn heavy.

And when his gorgeous face sweeps down, so ready to devour me, I don’t even have a prayer.

Our lips collide like they’re opening a portal to another world, hot and wet and wild.

He tastes as good as he looks.

He deepens his kiss, drinking me in with a muffled groan.

He swipes his tongue in my mouth, chasing me, swinging between a litany of teases and filthy, claiming strokes.

The nip of teeth against my bottom lip makes me squeak—but holy flipping bossman, I don’t care.

All the tension that’s been choking us for months—all the magnetism since the day he truly met me as a woman at that office pizza party—boils up my throat and into my fingers.

I’m clinging to him, moaning, soaked and wanting and too stunned for words. He gives back a guttural noise that’s too much like the sound I imagine he’d make inside me.

Insanity, it’s nice to meet you—and that’s a big fat problem.

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About the Author

Nicole Snow is a Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author. She found her love of writing by hashing out love scenes on lunch breaks and plotting her great escape from boardrooms. Her work roared onto the indie romance scene in 2014 with her Grizzlies MC series.

Since then Snow aims for the very best in growly, heart-of-gold alpha heroes, unbelievable suspense, and swoon storms aplenty. With over a million books sold, she lives for the joy of making two people fight with every bit of their soul for a Happily Ever After.

Current fan favorites include her Enguard Protectors series, accidental love novels, plus long beloved MC romance thrillers like the Grizzlies and Deadly Pistols.

Connect:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7192004.Nicole_Snow

http://nicolesnowbooks.com/

https://twitter.com/Nicolesnowbooks

https://www.instagram.com/nicolesnowbooks/

https://www.facebook.com/nicolesnowbooks/

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/nicole-snow

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Spotlight: Hitched to the Gunslinger by Michelle McLean

Genre: Historical fiction

About Hitched to the Gunslinger: 

Gray “Quick Shot” Woodson is the fastest gun west of the Mississippi. Unfortunately, he’s ready to hang up his hat. Sure, being notorious has its perks. But the nomadic lifestyle—and people always tryin’ to kill you—gets old real fast.

Now he just wants to find a place to retire so he can spend his days the way the good Lord intended. Staring at the sunset. And napping.

When his stubborn horse drags him into a hole-in-the-wall town called Desolation, something about the place calls to Gray, and he figures he might actually have a shot at a sleepy retirement.

His optimism lasts about a minute and a half.

Soon he finds himself embroiled in a town vendetta and married to a woman named Mercy. Who, judging by her aggravating personality, doesn’t know the meaning of her own name. In fact, she’s downright impossible.

But dang it if his wife isn’t irresistible. If only she’d stop trying to steal his guns to go after the bad guys herself.

There goes his peace and quiet...

Exclusive Excerpt

Gray had traveled. Lived an exciting life. And was still a very handsome man, if a little worse for wear. She had no doubt he had been with all sorts of beautiful women. They always flocked to dangerous men. And whatever else Gray was, he was definitely dangerous. When he could stay awake, that is.

She took a deep breath and said it all in a rush. “I’m probably not the type of woman you expected you’d marry.”

His eyes widened. “Mercy, I’m a gunfighter. I never expected I’d marry at all, or even live long enough for the thought to cross my mind.”

Her shoulders sagged. Partly in relief, though there was more than a little disappointment, too. At what, she didn’t want to examine too closely. What had she expected him to do? Declare his undying love and admiration? He barely knew her. He was only in this spot because she’d badgered him into it, and he was apparently too honorable (who knew?) to back out. And besides, did she even want him to go waxing poetic? She barely knew him, either, and what she did know was…well, colorful, to say the least.

 “Hey,” he said, startling her out of her thoughts. He touched her chin, lightly turning her face to look at him more fully. “I know I couldn’t have ever expected all this to happen. But if I do have to be saddled with a wife…” That lopsided grin of his took the sting out of his words and sent her stomach careening again. “Well, you aren’t such a bad choice.”

Mercy laughed. “Aren’t you just the flatterer.”

His grin widened. “I mean it. You’re strong, brave, smart, and stubborn as a mule. That’s a compliment, by the way,” he added when she gasped. Then he just stared at her for a heartbeat, as though he wasn’t sure what to say or wasn’t sure if he should say it. Finally, he shook his head. “Your eyes are the exact color of a field of bluebells I passed once. Soft blue but with flecks of gold like when the sun hits ’em. And when you get your dander up, they flash pure fire.”

She no longer worried if he’d hear her heart. Because it had just stopped altogether.

He shrugged. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. It’s been a while since I knew where I’d be lying my head every night.”

Mercy’s cheeks flushed hot with the sudden realization that as her husband he might have the expectation of laying his head beside hers. Their engagement might have been fake, but this marriage would be very real. And he would be well within his rights to expect it to be real…in every way. And…she wasn’t sure she hated that idea.

“Of course, you can’t cook worth a damn, but with Martha feeding me lunch, at least I’ll be sure of one decent meal every day,” he said.

“Oh!” She shoved him and he chuckled, capturing her hand. And then he pressed a kiss to the back of it.

She sucked in a breath. For an inept, laze-about, retired killer, he could certainly be charming when he wanted to be.

“So?” he asked.

She slowly released her breath and stood. “All right, then. Let’s go get hitched.”

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Mass Market Paperback

About Michelle McLean 

USA Today bestselling author Michelle McLean is a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl who is addicted to chocolate and Goldfish crackers and spent most of her formative years with her nose in a book. She has degrees in history and English and is thrilled that she sort of gets to use them. Her novel Truly, Madly, Sweetly, written as Kira Archer, was adapted as a Hallmark Original movie in 2018. 

When Michelle’s not working, reading, or chasing her kids around, she can usually be found baking, diamond painting, or trying to find free wall space upon which to hang her diamond paintings. She resides in PA with her husband and two teens, the world’s most spoiled dog, and a cat who absolutely rules the house. She also writes contemporary romance as Kira Archer.

Connect with Michelle: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Website 

Spotlight: Dovetails in Tall Grass by Samantha Specks

Inspired by the true story of the thirty-eight Dakota-Sioux men hanged in Minnesota in 1862―the largest mass execution in US history―Dovetails in Tall Grass is a powerful tale of two young women connected by the fate of one man.

As war overtakes the frontier, Emma's family farmstead is attacked by Dakota-Sioux warriors; on that same prairie, Oenikika desperately tries to hold on to her calling as a healer and follow the orders of her father, Chief Little Crow. When the war is over and revenge-fueled war trials begin, each young woman is faced with an impossible choice. In a swiftly changing world, both Emma and Oenikika must look deep within and fight for the truth of their convictions―even as horror and injustice unfolds all around them.

Excerpt

Inspired by the true story of the thirty-eight Dakota-Sioux men hanged in Minnesota in 1862―the largest mass execution in US history―Dovetails in Tall Grass is a tale of two young women connected by the fate of one man.

Writing Historical Fiction with debut novelist Samantha Specks

Though my novel is about events in 1862, for me the story started on Christmas 2005. A bitter wind blew snow over a country road. I was a high-schooler, cozy riding in my parents’ Suburban making the final turn to my grandparents’ home, when my blue eyes spotted something new. Headlights illuminated shapes moving across the darkening horizon. A group of men on horseback. Curious, I asked my parents why people were riding in the cold. My mother explained: “They’re Dakota who are marching to show they haven’t forgotten what happened here long ago.” And I've spent the last 15 years of my life learning what they haven't forgotten. 

It was that cold night on the frozen Minnesota prairie when the first seeds of the Dovetails story were planted in my heart. The men who I crossed paths with were the Dakota 38+2 Riders. To commemorate the US-Dakota War anniversary and promote reconciliation, this group still rides every December from Lower Brule, South Dakota to the site of the mass hangings in Mankato, Minnesota. Their journey inspired the girl I was and the woman, and author, I am today. 

Writing Dovetails in Tall Grass

Dovetails grew its way through the cracks in my life. In hindsight, I can see how there was space for that, as my career path was meandering; I previously worked in sports broadcast journalism and as a therapist. It was during my graduate studies in 2011 that I began diving deeper into my interest in the US-Dakota War; somewhere amidst the academic research and my personal interest, I began to interpret the history with a lens for story, through the perspective of two women. Still, years and a career passed by. It wasn’t until 2017, once my husband and I had moved from Minnesota to Texas that he encouraged me, “why don’t you finally write that book idea you always talk about?” Story had pushed its way through, grown too big to ignore. A nudge and a new beginning in the Lone Star State were what I needed to give it the time and space it deserved. 

Once the moving boxes were unpacked, I had to figure out how to write a book. I didn’t even own a laptop, so a visit to the Apple store was a starting point. My mind was overflowing with ideas. A massive roll of artist’s paper seemed like a good purchase as well. Then I spent six months doing intensive research. There was no information about the US-Dakota War that was too big or too small. My brain wanted it all: scholarly articles, old texts from libraries that hadn’t been checked out for years, or page 7 of comments on Minnesota History message boards. It was time well spent. Once I really knew the history inside and out, I outlined. I unrolled that giant scroll of artists paper and made detailed historical timelines and abstract conceptual character boards. Hours upon hours, I sat on my hardwood floor surrounded by torn sheets of paper, stacks of texts, random pages flagged in open books, and my keyboard home row already worn from the constant clickty-clack of notetaking. After a few months, I sat back and looked at the chaos of a story around me. I let myself feel it. It wasn’t in the past; it overwhelmed my heart now. This war was complex. Ugly. Unresolved. This time in history mattered so much to me. 

I knew it, I felt it, I had it. It was time to write.

I took a deep breath, let it out, and started typing. Most mornings, I’d head to a Starbucks with a singular goal of getting the fictional characters of 1862 living in my mind onto a Microsoft Word document. Some days I felt hopeful the writing was taking the shape of a story, but most days I felt like an imposter. I was a first timer, and it was excruciating. To me, my pages were rough, messy, and imperfect. After a morning of writing, I’d stop at Brazos Bookstore to look at the historical fiction section. Beautiful covers, stunning prose. How did writers do this? Mornings at the coffeeshop began to feel dreadful. When I opened my document, those first draft pages felt like I was catching a glimpse of myself midway through a dental procedure. Mouth open bizarrely wide, water and bits of whatnot spraying about, drills zinging and polishers whooshing too loudly in my ears. The world was already full of brilliant authors with dazzling work who smiled perfectly from the shelves. Real, flawless, writing like that was something my messy pages could never be. When I started working with an editor, my insecurity only worsened. I couldn’t look at myself. My stomach flipped with anxiety each time I saw my editor’s name pop up in my inbox. Despite her positivity and encouragement, the comments, deletions, and suggestions throughout my pages flagged my failure. A professional was making it clear that I didn’t have the writing chops. Who was I kidding?

One day, probably while I was avoiding writing and in some rabbit hole of research, I stumbled upon an image of JK Rowling’s edited Harry Potter pages. They were marked top to bottom, Xs over massive blocks of her writing. Wait… what? Rowling’s edits were messy?! My next visit to the bookstore, the shelves looked different to me. The titles were still awe-inspiring. But the authors’ names were superhuman in a new way... they didn’t get here because they wrote a perfect first draft. They got here because they pushed through every comment, suggestion, flag, cut paragraphs, deleted precious words time and time again. The process was ugly. Ugly and necessary.

My therapist brain flipped on. An editor’s feedback would be exposure therapy for me. Bit by bit, I’d face and feel the anxiety of looking at my words. And in that discomfort of exposure, bit by bit, I’d get stronger. I needed to get okay with the ‘ugly and necessary’. Shame dissolved in the light of that truth. 

 Before long, I was refreshing my inbox, hoping to see my editor’s name pop up. I craved feedback. I didn’t need my writing to be the Harry Potter; I needed it to be Rowling’s marked up pages. And with that shift in my thinking, the words poured out of me. 

I got down to it and I wrote a book.  

After a handful of years writing, I don’t think of myself as a “writer”. I think of myself as someone who is just lucky enough to tap into compelling ideas when I learn about significant times in history. After I’ve spent time in the trenches of research, the fictional story is something totally outside of myself that I just happen to be able to see. The more I study the fascinating dynamics of our past (cough cough *present*), the more fire lights within me and illuminates just what complexities would play out in a story arc. If I can get my fingers to type fast enough, the actual writing feels like grabbing the ideas/feelings/characters invisibly floating beyond my mind and sticking them onto the physical page. If I write well enough, at the end of my work the fire will spread to a reader turning the pages of a meaningful story playing out on our vibrant and vivid past.

Hopes for a Reader

After finishing Dovetails in Tall Grass, these are my hopes for a reader… 

I hope a reader sets the book down and thinks, “Wow, I can’t believe I didn’t know about this time in history before…” and they instantly google “Chief Little Crow” or “Dakota 38+2 Riders” -- and maybe even search for “Emma Heard” or “Oenikika” because these fictional characters feel so real, they must be part of the actual history. 

I hope this is a novel that makes a reader look forward to her book club meeting – that it brings out lively, engaging, dynamic conversation in a group. And that she chooses to chime in a few more times than she usually does in that discussion. 

And finally, at the end of the day, I hope a reader remembers Dovetails in Tall Grass a novel that made her think, feel, and question. When someone asks her, “Have you read any good books lately?” She recommends it; not just because she liked the story but because she wants others to know how much the US-Dakota War of 1862 mattered.

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About the Author

Samantha Specks is a licensed independent clinical social worker. She and her husband live in Houston with their baby (Pippa) and fur baby (Charlie). When not in Texas, they enjoy spending time on the lakes of Minnesota and in the mountains of the Roaring Fork Valley in Colorado. Dovetails in Tall Grass is Samantha’s debut novel. Currently, she is writing Dovetails of a River, which is set at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. For more information, please visit https://samanthaspecks.com

Spotlight: The Librarian's Treasure by Katherine H. Brown

Genre: Low Fantasy

Libraries, leprechauns, & evil landlords, oh my!

Join Raegan Sheridan as she sets out on a journey with a dashing stranger and an ornery kitten to the home of the mother she never knew, at the behest of her father's people whom she never met, to save a village she knows nothing about.

The Librarian's Treasure is a little fantasy, a little mystery, and a lot to love.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Hardcover | Paperback

About the Author

Katherine Brown is a Texas girl with books in her blood. She has been reading as long as she can remember and has been “making books” from the time she was a child. Her first few were of a non-traditional binding – cardboard & wrapping paper stapled with handwritten pages in the middle & a ribbon closure! Her love of books runs deep and she hopes to encourage readers of all ages to explore and use their imagination by helping them fall in love with books just like she did.Katherine is married to a wonderful man, Patrick, and has a spunky, smart, amazing step-daughter Lexi. Lexi is the biggest fan of this author’s first published series, School is Scary, and is constantly asking when the next book will be finished so she can read it too.
When not writing or reading, you can often find Katherine eating chocolate or enjoying time with family. 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

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Spotlight: The Inn At Summer Island by Rachel Magee

Genre: Contemporary Romance 

About The Inn At Summer Island

Millie Leclair is a mess, complete with a dead-end career and a flat-lining love life. So when she inherits her great aunt’s oceanfront B&B in a resort town in South Carolina’s Lowcountry, she doesn’t hesitate to pack up her car and set off on a new adventure. It’ll be fun.

Of course, life seldom goes according to plan. The B&B is barely habitable for one person, let alone ready to open for business. With dwindling funds, Millie has no choice but to roll up her sleeves and tackle the repairs by herself. Yeah, so much fun.

Ex-pro golfer Braxton Channing thought being a full-time single parent kept him on his toes. That was before he spotted his new neighbor teetering on her rooftop—which is only the beginning of her long list of renovations for the old house—and he added keeping her safe to his to-do list.

But Millie is determined to dive headfirst into repairs regardless of the risk, and suddenly, battling with his daughter over brushing her teeth seems easier than winning an argument with Millie. She’s exasperating. And oddly delightful. And most definitely shouldn’t be let anywhere near a tall ladder.

For a guy who’s sworn off romantic relationships, why does he suddenly want to be the one who gets the privilege of watching Millie conquer not just the B&B but his heart as well?

Exclusive Excerpt: 

“She’s a bit of a mess right now, but the plan is to restore her to her former glory,” she said, adding mildew check to the ever-growing fix-it list. “I guess we won’t be taking guests yet, but before the summer is over, she’ll be the thriving inn she once was.” 

“Inn?” 

Millie turned to him. “Yeah. I’ll probably run it more like a bed and breakfast than an inn. My aunt never really liked the B&B title because she—”

“You’re not selling?” Braxton cut her off, his eyebrows knitted together. 

“Selling?” The question caught her off guard. “Of course I’m not selling Seascape. Why would I want to sell something that’s been in my family for generations?”

“You live in Chicago, so I guess we all assumed…” He let his voice trail off.   

“I used to live in Chicago.” She tried to sound patient, but why was she having to explain herself to this man? “Now I live here at 121 East Shore Drive where I’ll be running Seascape Inn.” She didn’t want to be rude to her new neighbor on her first day in the neighborhood, but she couldn’t help the hint of bite behind the words.

“Huh.” Braxton said as he looked past her, his eyes sweeping across the front of the house. “You realize you can’t turn this property into any sort of hotel, right? Using it for commercial business is against Oceanside Estates HOA regulations.”

Her new neighbor might have once been known as America’s most charming bachelor, but he was starting to get on her nerves. “I’m not turning it into a hotel. It is a hotel. Since it was built in the fifties, Seascape Inn has been a commercial business. This isn’t something new.”

“Perhaps in the past. But it’s been vacant for a while.”  His gaze returned to her, no longer sparkling and friendly. “I can tell you with good authority that the current HOA rules are very clear. No businesses. Especially hotels.”

“How can you make a rule prohibiting something that is already here?” She’d quit her whole life in Chicago and moved here to start over, to have the sort of life she dreamed about as a kid when she spent her summers here with her aunt. Reviving Seascape and running the inn wasn’t just going to be her livelihood, it was a chance to keep her family’s legacy alive. 

Sensing her growing frustration, Bear abandoned his spot next to their new neighbor and sat next to Millie, his ears perked on full alert.

Braxton offered another polite smile. She was growing to hate them. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the rules were designed to benefit everyone in the community.”

Millie crossed her arms in front of her chest, defiance swelling insider her. “Well, I’m part of the community now, and I’m meeting with my lawyer later today. We’ll see what he has to say about this.”

It sounded a bit like ‘I’m telling my mom on you,’ but it was the best she could come up with after all the surprises she’d dealt with today.

 “I always find a lawyer’s opinion helpful.” There was a bit of snark in his voice that only made the fire in her belly burn brighter. “And if you need any further clarification or want to file a complaint, you’re always welcome to attend one of the HOA general meetings.”

Braxton backed down the steps to where his slick, new sports car sat on the crumbling and cracked driveway. He had gone from handsome celebrity to uptight know-it-all faster than that car went from zero to sixty. 

“Great,” Millie called out after him. “I’ll be there.”

He hesitated as he opened the door. “Then I’ll see you there.” He offered her one of his Braxton Channing famous grins, just as empty as his polite smiles. “And since you’re moving in, I guess I should say welcome to the neighborhood.” He slid into the driver’s seat and the engine purred to life. 

She stood there with her arms crossed in front of her chest and glared until his car pulled down and through the rusted gate to turn onto the street.

“I’m glad we didn’t ask him for a picture,” she said to Bear. “It would’ve ruined our Instagram feed. And if I need a cup of sugar, I am not going to ask him for it.”

Bear’s tail wagged in what she assumed was agreement. 

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About the Author

Rachel wrote her first novel when she was twelve and entered it into a contest for young author/illustrators. Unfortunately, the judges weren’t impressed with her stick figures. So she dropped the dream of becoming a world famous illustrator and stuck to spinning stories. When she’s not busy working on her latest book, she loves to travel with her family and friends. By far, her favorite destination is the beach, which tends to work its way into most of her stories. Between vacations, you can find her at home in The Woodlands, TX with her wonderful husband, their two adventurous kids and a couple of spirited pets, all of whom share Rachel’s love of the ocean. Well, except the cat and dog. They’re both afraid of water. Find out more about what Rachel has been up to at rachelmageebooks.com.

 Connect with the Author: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Spotlight: Cruising on Ice by Kerry Evelyn

Genre: Sweet Friends-to-Lovers Hockey Romance 

It’s true that hockey players break hearts.
Sometimes, it’s their own.

Taylor Ranford has three immediate goals: have a blast on her birthday cruise with her sister, help Team USA win the international cheerleading title, and earn enough money to put her through grad school. Not part of the plan: her sister getting sick and sending her best friend—and Taylor’s longtime crush—in her place. She can't face the only guy she’s ever had feelings for treating her like she's his little sister when she really wants so much more.

After a big blow to his career—and his ego—and with no immediate plans for the next season, Kingston Brewer jumps at the opportunity to go on a last-minute cruise with the bouncy-ponytailed cheerleading coach. Taylor had always been there when he needed her most, and he holds a soft spot for her in his heart. But after a few days on the ship, Kingston begins to see Taylor as more than just his best friend’s little sister.

Just when he thinks they can explore a future together, Kingston gets THE call from his agent. Now he has to make one of the most difficult choices in his personal and professional life. Will he give up the professional chance of a lifetime for a chance with the girl he’s fallen head-over-skates for? 

Excerpt

From Chapter 17, in Taylor’s point of view…

Kingston grabbed my hand and spun us around so that he was skating backward. I reached for his other hand and grabbed it, spinning us again until he was pulling me at high speed. I squealed in delight as the people blurred in my peripheral.

He was grinning at me stupidly, and I’m sure I wore a similar expression. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just waggled my eyebrows at him. He spun us again and guided me into his arms, facing outward. His warm breath on my neck brought back the goosebumps and sent a shiver down my back.

“I’ve got a birthday gift for you,” he whispered. “I was going to wait until dinner, but I don’t want to.” His hands dropped to my waist, and we glided to the gate.

“Then I don’t want to wait.” I pressed my lips to his. We found a bench and changed back into our shoes. With a quick wave to the others, we left the recreation area and headed back to our room.

“When did you have time to get me a gift?” I asked breathlessly as I tried to keep up with him. Where had he found this much energy after all the physical activity we’d exerted today?

“I’m sneaky like that.” He flashed a grin and tugged me into the cabin, spinning me so that I was pressed against the door.

Kingston bent his head down, and I lifted to my toes to meet his lips. I closed my eyes, savoring every light, feathery brush of his kiss.

I looked past him and saw that the dresser was dotted in red rose petals. On a tray, a vase of red roses sat next to a champagne bottle chilled in an ice bin. A card leaned against the vase, and as I reached for it, Kingston scooped up the skinny, silver-wrapped rectangular box with a big red bow.

“Happy birthday, Taylor.”

I took the box and sat on the bed, grinning stupidly. I was almost afraid to open it. I was sure it was jewelry, but I wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Just open it. I hope you like it.”

I untied the bow and slid the satiny ribbon off the box. Carefully, I worked at the paper until it released from the box. I wasn’t normally a sentimental person, but a gut feeling told me I’d want to keep it as a memento. And the bow. And maybe a few dried roses, too.

I glanced up at him as I lifted the top of the box. He nodded, and I returned my attention to the gift. Inside, on a delicate chain, was a strip of silver tied into a bow.

“Oh, wow. I love it. Thank you.”

He kissed me again and reached for the card. “I got this for you before we left. I should have gotten you another card.”

“You’re the sweetest.” I opened the envelope. Inside was a year’s subscription for audiobooks. “This is perfect! Thank you!” Another kiss. I didn’t think I could ever get enough kisses from this guy.

He pulled away and looked at me seriously. “I don’t know how to do this, Taylor. I’ve never had a serious girlfriend. I . . . I want us to be serious. You want that, too, right?”

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About the Author

Kerry Evelyn is a native of the Massachusetts SouthCoast. She loves God, books of all kinds, traveling, taking selfies, sweet drinks, boy bands, and escaping into her imagination, where every child is happy and healthy, every house has a library, and her hubby wears coattails and a top hat 24/7.She is an instructor, mentor, and speaker, author of the Crane’s Cove series, small town romance set in Downeast Maine a Guest Author for the Cat's Paw Cove Romance world, and several short stories. 

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