Lea Coll's Blog, page 9

January 10, 2023

New Book!

The release of Feel My Love kicks off the start of my brand new wedding planner series, Ever After! These wedding planners are breaking all the rules to find their happily ever afters.

Rule 1: Don't sleep with the best man.

As a wedding photographer, I get to witness the magic, the romance, and the fairy tale without getting close enough for it to ever sting me again.Until Nick.I broke my number one rule and slept with the best man. How could I resist his sexy good looks and the seductive offer of one night with no strings attached?Except he broke the rules by asking me to stay. So, I left without leaving a note or my number, sure I'd never see him again.Until he moves to the same town to take care of his nephew, after his dead-beat dad goes to jail. Suddenly he’s everywhere: the town’s harvest festival, playing arcade games at the pizzeria, and coaching my son’s baseball teamThe worst part? I can't get him off my mind. But I won’t allow myself to fall in love again. Instead, I make a new offer: friends-with-benefits. It's the perfect solution. Until I realize he wants more.

★★★★★ "Feel My Love was an exceptional story it was deeply moving, heart-wrenching in places yet a beautiful love story, and boy was the chemistry between this couple scorching hot!" -World of Books 65

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Published on January 10, 2023 18:19

These wedding planners break all the rules...

Gia poured a third glass. Her cheeks were flush from the alcohol. “We should set up some rules.”

Lily lifted her glass. “To not sleeping with the bridal party.”

I almost choked on the champagne I’d just sipped. Did she know about Nick and me?

Gia nodded. “That goes without saying. Don’t flirt or sleep with anyone in the wedding party. At least during the time leading up to the wedding and the wedding night.”

My chest was tight, and I couldn’t draw in a deep breath. She had to know. Why else was she bringing it up? Yet she wasn’t looking at me.

Sophie ticked off her fingers. “And don’t sleep with the vendors, that includes the musicians, the caterers, and our suppliers. It would be awkward.”

She’d recently reconnected with her high school sweetheart, Mark, so she didn’t need to worry about the rules affecting her.

Gia groaned. “Definitely don’t make that mistake. I carefully cultivated relationships with various vendors, and we don’t want anything to interfere with business when we’re just getting started.”

The only vendor we used who wasn’t in the room was Harrison. He owned a wedding supply company, so we didn’t need to store our own furniture and linens. As a bonus, he stayed to help us move whatever we needed.

Gia took another swig of her champagne. “And while we’re on the topic. No sleeping with the competition.”

I reached for the champagne bottle, offering her a refill. I hoped she drank enough to forget the conversation in the morning.

“Who counts as the competition?” Sophie asked.

Gia’s eyes widened.

Returning to my seat, I said, “I think Gia meant the vendors who host weddings and retain on-staff wedding planners.”

Gia nodded. “In this area, no one else is offering wedding planning services. Our main competition are resorts and hotels that offer a one-stop shop. They don’t offer a personalized experience. It’s just a monopoly for the vendor. And most of the time the wedding planners on staff aren’t versed or experienced in weddings.”

Gia was most likely referring to our biggest competitor, Chesapeake Resort. The owner, Silas Sharpe, was a b’dillionaire and oldest of four brothers, all successful in their own right. Gia mentioned that Silas seemed to have radar whenever she met with a large client. He’d swoop in and steal them away. It drove her crazy, or, maybe I should say, he drove her crazy.

I’d let Gia go on long enough about these rules. It was time to rein her back in. “I thought these rules were to protect the business. We might’ve gotten a little off track.”

Gia grabbed a pen and a paper. “Let’s write them down before we forget.”

Lily and Sophie nodded like it was the best idea. I must have been the only one who was sober at that point and questioning the intelligence of writing the rules down. If anyone found them, it wouldn’t look professional.

Gia held up a finger. “Number one—no sleeping with the wedding party. Best man. Groomsmen. None of them.”

My heart picked up its pace. Was she talking about me?

“How about no hooking up at the wedding,” Sophie offered helpfully.

“Or before,” Lily added.

Gia was frantically scribbling on the piece of paper, her tongue peeked out in concentration.

“No cavorting with the enemy,” Gia murmured as she stared at the paper.

“I think it was no sleeping with the enemy,” Sophie said seriously.

Gia looked up at her and nodded. “No sleeping with him. No matter how much you want to.”

I opened my mouth to speak but then snapped it shut. Everyone was tipsy and letting loose. Even if it sounded personal. Like Gia wanted to sleep with someone. It couldn’t be Silas. She hated him.

The champagne was our way to celebrate our first wedding planned together. Tonight was a chance to let loose. The list was all in good fun. Surely, it wasn’t enforceable.

Even if Gia wanted to enforce it, I’d slept with the groomsman before it was made. If the truth came out, hopefully, it wouldn’t affect my business arrangement with the women.

Gia tapped her pen on her chin. “I should type this up and make it official.”

I nearly groaned out loud. A headache formed at the base of my skull, threatening to turn into a full-blown tension headache.

When Lily looked like she was about to agree, I interrupted, “I’m sure that’s not necessary.”

I’d stopped drinking as soon as Gia mentioned creating rules and lists. Now, I was certain I was the only one thinking clearly.

Lily and Sophie were sprawled on the couch, scrolling through their phones, Gia sat ramrod straight in her desk chair, and I was perched on the edge of the stiff leather guest chair.

I’d been waiting for Gia or one of the other women to call me out on my indiscretion. But no one said anything, so maybe I was safe. For now.

Gia’s gaze lifted to meet mine. “It wouldn’t be good business for you to sleep with the clients.”

I let out a laugh. “It’s really the bride and groom who are the clients. And no one is going to sleep with them. That would be awkward and unprofessional.”

Gia shook her head. “I still don’t think it’s good form for us to get close to the family or guests.”

“That’s reasonable,” Sophie said.

Easy for her to say, she was in a committed relationship. None of it even applied to her. But surely, it wasn’t retroactive. It was a one-time mistake. I’d never see Nick again. It would never come up. As long as no one saw me leave with him.

Hopefully, Nick hadn’t said anything to his cousin, Ethan, or his wife, Savannah, especially since we were all friends. That was really the only other way anyone would find out. And Nick didn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. I sucked in a breath. Unless he wanted to find me. He’d asked me to stay.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention. A woman came into Petals the other day with invitations she designed. She asked if she could display them in the shop,” Lily said.

Gia set the list aside to focus on her. “How were they?”

“Honestly? They were amazing. Very detailed and beautifully done.”

“What did you say?” Gia asked.

“I took a sample and told her I’d think about it. I thought we should discuss it together. I think it could be an amazing collaboration.”

She pulled the sample—blue writing on thick card stock—out of her purse and handed it to Gia.

“This is amazing,” Gia murmured as she held it up so we could see. There were flowers embossed on the top and the script was beautifully done. “She handwrites the calligraphy?”

“She does,” Lily said.

“This is such a nice touch. I think the couples would love that an artist prepared their invitations. Does she have a price list?”

“So far, everything she does is custom.”

“Do you think she’d be willing to offer a few as packages the couples could pick from and have them done?”

“I don’t see why not,” Lily said.

“Talk to her, tell her our plan, and ask if she’d be willing to meet with us. What’s her name?”

Lily reached over to hand Gia a business card. “Everly Long.”

“I love the idea of expanding if others have a service they can provide. Is there anything else we need to look into? Any other collaboration that would be good?” Gia asked, looking at each of us.

When there were no other suggestions, Gia continued, “I think we might need to think about hiring more wedding planners. I only see the business growing. By spring, we’ll need assistance.”

I was happy she’d moved on from the list to something business-related. While she discussed posting an ad for potential wedding planners, I turned the paper toward me, so I could read it.

Number 1: No sleeping with the groomsmen.

She’d added “best man” next to it circled and underlined. My stomach twisted. She must be serious about that one.

Number 2: No sleeping with your coworkers.

That was easy. The only male vendor we worked with was Harrison, and I had no feelings, other than friendly, toward him.

Number 3: No sleeping with your best friend.

I definitely wasn’t sleeping with my best friend. I didn’t even have a best friend, much less one who was male.

Number 4: No sleeping with a wedding guest.

That one felt eerily similar to what I’d done.

Number 5: No sleeping with your friends’ brother or brother’s best friend.

Was that one personal? Gia had a lot of brothers. I looked at her. She was using her hands to gesture wildly to talk to Lily about flower arrangement centerpieces. Most likely a by-product of the alcohol she’d consumed. Even sober, I suspected her brothers were off-limits. Thankfully, that one wouldn’t be a problem for me.

Number 6: No sleeping with the enemy.

Then she’d slashed out the word enemy and written competitor over it. I couldn’t help but think number six was personal for her. I remembered her flushed face when she was talking about Silas Sharpe being our number one competitor.

His resort on the water was wildly popular. He advertised a relaxed experience where his staff took care of every detail. There was even a restaurant, spa, and salon on-site.

That couples preferred his resort rankled Gia. She didn’t like to lose. Especially to someone like Silas, who, she’d mentioned on several occasions, was cocky.

Sophie moved to stand next to me, reading the list over my shoulder. She lowered her voice. “She can’t be serious about this?”

“Oh. I think she is.” The champagne I’d managed to drink was fizzing in my stomach.

“I’m glad I don’t have anything to worry about. I’m happy with Mark.” Sophie smiled softly.

“Hopefully, she forgets about it.” I left the paper on my lap, wondering if I could hide it or make it disappear.

It was a silly list you wrote when you were drunk. Of course, it’s an unspoken rule that you shouldn’t sleep with a member of a wedding party or even a guest when you’re working.

“Where did the list go?” Gia asked, moving things around her desk, presumably looking for it.

Should I hide it?

Sophie raised her brow at me.

I sighed, sliding it across the desk. “I was reviewing it.”

Gia held the list up. “I need to find a good spot for it. Not on the wall or anything crazy like that.”

I exchanged a look with Sophie. I couldn’t believe she’d written it, much less was considering keeping it.

Gia pulled out a drawer on her desk that was more like a flat piece of wood and carefully taped it on there. “There. That way I can’t lose it or forget about it.”

She gave each one of us a measured look.

I shifted uncomfortably on my seat. I couldn’t lose my spot in this business arrangement. I struggled to bring in paying clients year-round. I needed this.

It was imperative Gia never find out about Nick. In theory, that should be easy because he didn’t live there. I’d never seen him around town before, so it was unlikely I’d see him in the future.

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I adore Marika's books and I know you will too!

Download for Free: Matchmaker from Hell by Marika Ray

Even kindergarten sweethearts need a nudge- or twenty- from cupid.

Meadow Fields shared her precious lollipops with Judd Johnson at recess when she was six years old. Judd gave Meadow her first kiss right by the swings. But his family moved away after that fateful year, and Meadow moved on. When Judd returns home twenty years later and runs into Meadow, the attraction is still there.

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Published on January 10, 2023 18:15

January 5, 2023

I wasn't supposed to lick icing off my best friend's brother...

He took a large bite of the second cinnamon roll, leaving a dollop of icing on his lips. Heat pooled in my belly. I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into fists as I tried to resist going to him. His tongue darted out to lick his lips.

Without thinking, I moved around the counter at the same time he shifted on the stool so that I was standing in between his legs.

His gaze searched my face. “Is there something on my face?”

I removed the icing with my thumb, sucking it into my mouth.

His legs tightened around my hips, his eyes darkening with desire.

I couldn’t believe I’d stepped into his space to touch him. My thumb still tingled from the brief contact, the look in his eyes heated me from the inside out.

I should step back. He was a guest. A friend. Not someone I was supposed to be licking icing off of.

Instead, I was mesmerized by the desire I saw in his eyes. I had this overwhelming urge to kiss him, to touch his thighs, to see if the muscles were as hard as they seemed, the soft hair on his neck, the prickly stubble on his face. My core clenched with desire.

“Did you get it?” His voice was low and rumbly.

My throat was so dry. “Get what?”

“Did you get all of the icing?”

My gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips. It was an invitation I couldn’t refuse. Resting my hands on his thighs, I went up on tiptoe, kissing the corner of his mouth, then licking the remnants of sweet icing on his lips.

He banded an arm around my waist, hauling me closer until I could feel the hard ridge of his cock on my belly.

Warm everywhere, I felt like a simmering pot of water ready to boil over. My senses were on overdrive from the taste of the icing on his lips, the strength of his hold on me, and the heat I felt through his pants.

I wanted him.

He angled my head, going deeper, plunging his tongue into my mouth. He tasted like the sweetest thing I’d ever eaten.

I wanted to get lost in him, forget whatever it was we were just talking about. He kissed me until the ache in my core was an insistent throb.

I wanted him to slide his hand under my skirt into my panties, to part my folds with his fingers, teasing my entrance, then thrust inside. I wanted to get closer, rubbing my nipples against his chest. I wanted nothing between us.

Groaning, he pulled slightly back. His thumb ghosted over my lips.

I wanted to suck his thumb into my mouth. I wanted him to lift me so I was straddling his hips.

I wanted more.

“What was that?”

It was like ice-cold water had been poured down my back. I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to take a step back, but his thighs pressed harder, keeping me imprisoned. It was the best kind of torture, standing this close to him with his taste lingering in my mouth.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the dirty thoughts in my head. “I don’t know.”

He lowered his head until his forehead rested against mine. “I want to do it again.”

I flattened a hand on his chest, feeling his heart galloping under my touch. “Alex. We can’t. You’re Savannah’s brother.”

I hoped her name would put an end to whatever madness came over us.

He lifted his head from mine. “So?”

“So? She’s my best friend. I love your family.” I gestured between us. “Nothing can happen between us.”

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Published on January 05, 2023 04:51

December 30, 2022

Why did his voice have to be so sexy?

Why did his voice have to be so sexy? I put the phone on speaker, pulled my covers over me while I settled back on the pillows and closed my eyes.

“What can I do for you, Tanner?” My voice sounded husky.

He chuckled and the sound skidded over my skin. Goosebumps erupted in its wake. “Nothing. I was calling to talk about what I can do for you.”

If he were here, I’d ask him to touch me, to kiss me, as he whispered those same words into my ear. I quivered at the thought of his fingers on my body, his breath on my neck, his lips on my ear. I couldn’t answer him because suddenly I wanted everything from him.

“You intrigue me,” he said.

I sighed, the intimate moment broken. He wanted what everyone wanted—facts, information, a peek into what I was hiding. Ten years had passed, but people still wanted to know what had happened that night—even now I heard whispers in the studio’s waiting room and the grocery store, especially when I first returned home. But telling the truth wouldn’t change anything—not for me. “I don’t want to intrigue you.”

He chuckled again. “Trust me. I got that.”

“So, why are you bothering?” I didn’t want him asking questions. I didn’t want him concerned about me, but at the same time, it was addictive. My heart clenched at the idea of pushing him away.

“Something tells me you’re worth it.”

I snorted. I bit my lip before I said anything more because my reaction was revealing—I didn’t think I was worth it. He seemed to be in tune with my thoughts and feelings in a way no one had before.

“You are.” His tone was confident and sure.

His words flowed through my body—leaving lightness and hope. The fact that he thought I was worth it made me want to open up to him. To give him a piece of what he was asking. I closed my eyes and tried to remember a time when someone was there for me—a time when I felt worthy.

Tanner was silent as if waiting for me to continue.

“It would be nice to have someone in my corner.” I missed that with a yearning so strong my chest ached. Tanner was making me want things I didn’t deserve. When he found out the truth, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me.

“You have me.” He cleared his throat as if the weight of that statement had gotten to him too.

My mind fixated on those three words—you have me. Did I? Tanner was slowly cracking open my chest, my heart, and asking me to let him in. But what would be the result? Did he want a friend, another person who cared for his daughter, someone he could trust, or did he want all of that and something more?

“Thank you for helping me with Rylan today.”

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing. I think you understand how important it is to have people to depend on. You said you take care of yourself and you don’t need anyone, but what you didn’t say speaks volumes.”

The words I wanted to say stuck in my throat. How did he see me when no one else did?

“Why did you stay in town—you know, after everything that happened?”

A chill ran through me and my tone was short and clipped. “I left for college, but I came back because my mother needed me.”

“Ah.” When I didn’t offer any more information, he said softly, “You can let me in. I won’t betray you.”

“You can’t promise me that.” My voice was resigned because everyone did. He was no exception. No matter how attractive. No matter how silky smooth his voice. No matter how he affected me. I couldn’t trust anyone—not entirely.

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Christmas With You by Kennedy Fox

Meet Cole & Sarah—high school sweethearts who see each other again six years after their breakup. This is a second chance, holiday steamy romance set in Vermont.

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Published on December 30, 2022 13:55

He was a temptation I didn't need

I held up my hand, shielding my eyes from the bright sun. “That looks great.”

Mike, the man from the sign shop, stood on a ladder holding up the wrought iron sign over the door, my business name, Smoke & Mirrors, written inside the silhouette of a bearded man.

The fresh paint on the sign shone in the light, filling me with pride. It represented starting over, a new life in Telluride where no one knew who I was. After dying my hair from the platinum blonde, the producers had insisted upon, to my natural black, I’d shortened my name from Giselle to Elle. Gone was my LA wardrobe, replaced with what I hoped passed for mountain girl chic.

In contrast to the shiny new sign, the large shop windows were grimy; the old deli counter and shelves remained, covered in a thick layer of dust. When I closed my eyes, I saw plush leather chairs, gold framed mirrors, and brick walls. I imagined the smell of shaving cream.

“Hello!” A female voice called.

I startled, covering my racing heart with a hand. I turned in the direction of the bubbly voice, expecting to find a camera-toting paparazzo or a crazed fan. Either possibility set me on edge.

A blonde woman stopped in front of me, gesturing at the sign. “Are you the new owner?”

“I am.” I shifted on my feet, wondering if hanging the sign before the shop was renovated was a bad idea. It would draw attention, raising expectations before I was ready.

Telluride is a small town, where new businesses and new residents wouldn’t go unnoticed. I’d hoped to stay under the radar.

“I haven’t started renovations yet.”

“If the inside looks anything like your sign, I’m sure it will be amazing.” Her voice was filled with warmth, easing the tightness in my chest.

“Thank you.” I didn’t offer any details, unsure if I could trust this woman. Was she genuinely curious about a new business opening or did she want something from me?

“I’m a stylist at Bliss and Bang.” She gestured behind her at the sign on the other corner of the block, an image of a pair of scissors replaced the word and. When I scouted locations, I’d searched for any other barber shops or salons. Bliss and Bang had a spa-like atmosphere with wood floors, paneling, muted colors, and modern decor. I was confident I would draw different clientele with my shop.

Folding my arms over my chest, I asked, “Are you scoping out the competition?”

Her eyes widened in surprise before her face smoothed over. “No. I was heading to get some coffee at The Coffee Cowboy when I saw your sign. When do you think you’ll be open?”

She hasn’t given me any indication she was being anything other than friendly, despite my wariness. I softened my tone. “I’m meeting with the contractor this morning. Hopefully, it’ll be done by fall.”

“Are you hiring Fletcher & Sons Construction?” she asked excitedly.

I hoped she could tell me something about them. “That’s the one I’m meeting with this morning.”

She smiled easily. “They’re trustworthy. I went to high school with the sons.”

“That’s good to know. I’m not from here, so—”

She shot me a knowing look. “It’s hard to know who to trust.”

I swallowed, hoping she has forgiven me for my initial distrust. I could use a friend here. “Exactly.”

“Sorry to interrupt. If everything looks good, I’m going to head out,” Mike said.

I glanced up at the sign. “It looks great. Thank you so much.”

“Good luck. I’d like to check the shop out when you’re open.” He smiled one last time before gathering up his tools, folding his ladder onto his truck.

“Do you have time for coffee?” Piper’s blue eyes were friendly, her shoulders relaxed. Her energy was impossible to resist.

“Sure. I’d love some.” When was the last time I’d met someone outside of the show who didn’t already know who I was? Or even had a conversation revolving around something other than the show?

We walked side by side for a few seconds before Piper asked, “Where are you from?”

Worried she’d have an opinion about someone from LA, I settled for, “California.”

“A beach girl, huh? What brings you to our ski town?”

“I came here as a kid and loved it.” I carefully considered my answers, not wanting to reveal anything personal about myself. My life may have played out on TV, but most of it wasn’t real. In Telluride, I am living off-camera for the first time as an adult.

“That’s so nice to hear. I grew up here.” Her smile was wistful.

“That sounds like an ideal childhood. Historic town, skiing, hiking.”

“It’s not as perfect as it seems. We’re far from large stores, malls, and airports. It can be isolating. You grow up with the same people, never seeing anything outside of your town.” She shook her head. “Enough about me. You thought you’d move here and start a business?”

For the first time, I wanted to hear what someone thought of my business. Not as an opportunity for a show, but on its own. “I had this vision for a man cave barber shop. A classic barber shop experience, no women allowed.”

Piper threw her head back and laughed. “I love that. Except for the hot women working there, right?”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that. I guess it’s an interesting contrast.” I’d never thought of myself, with my natural hair and style, as beautiful. I’d always been told I needed to change my look to appeal to others.

What I didn’t say was that when I worked in a salon, women recognized me. They called me names, thinking I was the villain I portrayed on TV. That’s when I came up with the idea to cater to men. They didn’t tend to watch reality shows or care about my infamy, or at least, I hoped they didn’t. My entire business model and success depends on me being welcomed here.

Maybe Piper was the first step to ingratiate myself with the locals.

We stopped at the end of the short line at The Coffee Cowboy, sunlight filtering through the trees, warming me. The shop was a small camper parked on the brick-lined sidewalk with several tables, chairs, and bright yellow umbrellas surrounding it. A green and white canopy hung over the order window, the menu displayed on a small chalk board.

“Are you looking for stylists?” Her question was careful, as if she were interested in the answer for herself.

“I am. I won’t be able to hire too many in the beginning, maybe just one.”

Piper chewed her lip thoughtfully. “I might be interested.”

“Can I help you?” The woman at the window asked us as we moved to the front of the line.

We placed our orders, stepping to the side to wait for them.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m not prepared to hire anyone until closer to opening.”

Piper tilted her head. “Can I get your number so we can stay in touch?”

“Sure.” I pulled out my phone, exchanging numbers with her.

When the woman called out our names, we grabbed our coffees.

Piper started walking in the direction of my place. “I think your barber shop will be a nice addition to the town. It fits.”

I fell in step next to her, looking around the quaint, historic town.

“Plus, the fall colors here are beautiful. We get plenty of tourists year-round. We’re not just a ski resort. There’s hiking in the summer. It’s beautiful.”

I paused in front of my shop. “Have you ever thought about leaving Telluride?”

“In high school, I thought I’d leave and never come back. Instead, my brother Henry went to college. I stayed. Henry plans to open a hotel of sorts on our parent’s ranch. A place where people can stay, ride horses, or hike.”

“It sounds amazing. What happened that you didn’t leave?” I shouldn’t have asked. I knew better than anyone how awful invasive questions were, but I wanted to know her better.

A shadow passed over her face before she shrugged. “Let’s just say, it wasn’t in the cards for me. I didn’t need to go to college. I got my cosmetology license and worked here ever since.”

“It’s a beautiful town.” I changed the subject, not wanting to dig any deeper when my questions were unsettling her.

“It is. Sometimes, I wonder how different my life would have been, had I left. Moved someplace where I hadn’t known everyone since kindergarten.”

The longing in her voice was similar to how I felt. The desire to reinvent ourselves. The only difference between us was that everyone already knew who I was, or thought they did. My past was readily available online. “I guess that’s what I’m doing here, starting over somewhere new.”

“Adventurous. I like that. I always thought I’d be the one to get out.” She smiled sadly.

The look on her face was a contrast to her bubbly personality.

“You still can.”

“You can’t go far with a hair stylist’s salary.”

She wasn’t wrong. I had money from the show, or I wouldn’t be doing what I was, but I couldn’t tell her that. My dreams came with a terrible cost, my reputation.

She turned as if to leave. “I didn’t mean to get personal. I just stopped by because I was curious about your shop. Let me know when you’re ready to hire.”

“I will.” It wasn’t a trite statement. I liked her.

“It was nice meeting you.” She took a few steps in the direction of the salon. Then she paused, turning back to me. “Want to go out tonight? We usually meet up at the Last Dollar Saloon.”

I shouldn’t. I should keep my distance but the desire to have a real friend took over. My lips curved into a smile. “Sure.”

“Great. I’ll text you the address. Good luck with the contractors.” She gestured at the work truck that pulled up to the curb.

I hoped this meeting would go better than the discussions with the other two contractors I’d met with. One had his own visions for what the shop would look like, the other thought it was ridiculous that a woman was opening a barber shop.

I sipped my coffee, hopeful for the first time that things in Telluride would work out, that my business would be successful, and that I might even have friends here. Not like the ones who wanted to be my friend on TV, but real ones that lifted me up and supported me.

A man stepped out of the red truck and rounded the hood. With a clipboard in hand, and a pencil behind his ear, he smiled, a dimple appearing on his cheek. “Elle Carmichael?”

Everything in his demeanor screamed laid back and easy-going, immediately putting me at ease. He was attractive, with sandy brown hair and blue eyes, filling out his faded Fletcher & Sons T-shirt, faded jeans, and construction boots. “That’s me.”

He held his hand out to me. “Malcolm Fletcher. Friends call me Mac.”

“Nice to meet you, Mac.” His calloused hand embraced mine.

“You’re opening a barber shop?” He tipped his head toward the new sign.

“That’s the plan.” Excitement nipped at me. I was really doing this. This felt more real than telling the producers no―regarding a spin-off―or buying this building, packing my stuff, and moving into the apartment upstairs.

“Want to show me around?”

“Absolutely.” I unlocked the door, pushing it open. Stale air greeted me.

Stepping inside, I said, “It looks like it hasn’t been touched since the deli closed.”

I left the door open to allow some fresh air inside.

“You’d be right about that.” He did a quick pass of the room, walking into the back, then pointed upstairs. “Any plans for the second floor?”

“No. The apartment is in good shape. I just need to turn this,” I gestured at the shop, “into a classic barber shop.”

He chuckled. “I can help you do that. What are you thinking?”

A memory of going with my dad to the local barber shop in Huntington Beach came to mind. The smell of leather and shaving cream invaded my nose as easily as the feeling of sitting in his lap while he got his hair cut. It was one of the things we did together before he got a job outside of town and was gone all the time.

“I was thinking over-sized, traditional, maroon leather chairs for the clients, gold details, gold-framed mirrors on the wall, rich brown wooden floors, cleaning up the exposed brick on the walls. New windows for the store front.”

“How many stations are you setting up?”

“Four.” Four chairs, four mirrors. I wouldn’t fill them right away, but I was hoping with time, I’d be able to.

“You want something small.”

“Right. A classic, traditional feel. I want it to feel clean and welcoming. A place that men can escape to.”

He smiled boyishly. “Where men can get haircuts from beautiful women.”

Flushing, I realized what I was selling was the classic man cave, except there wouldn’t be seasoned, male barbers. I’d been in the business long enough to know what men liked, women who were blonde and bubbly. Piper would be a perfect fit for the salon. “How long do you think it will take?”

“That depends. Do you have the wood floor, chairs, mirrors, and whatever other décor you want, ordered?”

“I have the decor picked out. I was waiting until I secured a contractor to order windows and floors.”

“You’ll need to pick them out so we can get them ordered right away. Do you want a breakroom with a small kitchen in the back?”

“Yes.” We went over every inch of the first floor in excruciating detail. By the end of our conversation, I knew he was the guy for the job. He was detail-oriented and respectful of the vision I wanted. Hopefully, his estimate was reasonable.

Saying our goodbyes, he gave me the name of a local business where I could check out the wood floors in person before I picked anything. He promised to get the estimate to me by the end of the week.

I locked the shop’s door, heading upstairs to my apartment to take a shower before going out. Opening the door to my apartment, I let out a breath. The apartment was small, just a kitchen, living room, bedroom, and bath. Everything I’d brought with me was stacked in boxes in the corner. Not for the first time, I wished I had someone to come home to. Even in LA, I’d lived with my sister, Alice. Now, I was alone.

I needed something to fill the space. Someone who’d greet me at the end of the day. Maybe a cat, or even a puppy. Walking a dog would give me an excuse to explore the town, force me to meet new people. A puppy might even fill the cracks in my heart with unconditional love. Something I hadn’t felt since I was a kid, sitting on my dad’s lap in the barber shop he frequented.

My vision was almost complete. In a few months, Smoke and Mirrors would be open. I’d created it without anyone else’s assistance or interference. It was something I could be proud of. I didn’t need producers telling me I was successful.

I wouldn’t be known as the bad girl on TV. Unfortunately, with everything memorialized online, I’d never escape my past.

Chapter Two

Elle

Written in maroon and gold lettering, Last Dollar Saloon’s sign hung over the door. I took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy wooden door, stepping into the narrow space. Scanning the room, I wondered if it was a mistake coming here. Would people recognize me from the show? It had been off the air for months. My face was devoid of make-up. I wore a flannel shirt tied at my waist, skinny jeans tucked into knee-high boots, looking nothing like my on-TV persona. In LA, I would never be seen without a skirt or dress and in sky-high heels. Without that costume, I felt bare.

The bar itself was rustic with scuffed wooden floors, a stone fireplace, and old-fashioned chandeliers. Liquor was stacked to the ceiling behind the bar top on backlit shelves.

“Hey,” Piper approached me, enveloping me in a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Relieved to know someone here, I admitted, “It’s my first time out.”

Piper’s smile was infectious as she grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the bar. “Perfect. We come here for their five-dollar margaritas.”

“Made with agave tequila.” The female bartender smiled at us, her dark hair pulled back into a slick ponytail.

Sliding onto a bar stool, Piper said, “Marlowe, this is Elle Carmichael. She bought the old deli building.”

She glanced up at me briefly before continuing to make drinks. “Ah. I heard there’s a new sign up. A barber shop, huh?”

“Yeah.” I braced myself for any sign she recognized me, but she didn’t even do a double take.

“A female-owned barber shop. It’s different. I like it.” She braced her hands on the bar, focusing entirely on us. “So, what’ll it be?”

Pride filled me at her words. The producers loved the idea, but only if they could shoot it as a spin-off show in LA. I was done with a life in front of the cameras. “A margarita is fine.”

Piper nodded. “One for me too.”

“Two margaritas coming up.” Marlowe slid further down the bar, handing off the drinks she’d made to a group of women at the far end.

My shoulders relaxed slightly.

Piper shifted on the stool to face me. “Are you nervous people won’t like the shop?”

“A little. It is a bit of a novel idea.” I shrugged. “I’m an outsider.”

“It’s the perfect spot for it. Telluride is a year-round tourist town, it seems. We get a lot of high-powered businessmen, visiting with their families. They don’t have time for a cut when they’re working, but on vacation—” She raised her brows.

Hope bloomed in my chest, warm and comforting. “I hope you’re right about that. What about the locals?”

Her brow furrowed. “They might take a bit more persuasion. Some don’t like to spend money on things they can do themselves.”

I chewed my lip. That was something I hadn’t thought about. I didn’t like admitting I was from LA, but I didn’t think Piper would judge me. “In LA, guys got cuts, manicures, and pedicures.”

Piper stilled next to me. “You’re kidding.”

My stomach dropped. I hadn’t considered the possibility that men were so different in Colorado, but I should have. The people here don’t have that fake sheen LA people do. It is more relaxed―the people friendlier, more welcoming.

Marlowe set the colorful margarita glasses in front of us, the rim lined with salt. “Here you go, ladies. Enjoy.”

I stirred the margarita with the tiny straw Marlowe added to the glass, practically tasting the salt without taking a sip. “I’m not kidding. The men in LA were high maintenance.”

It was something I was used to, assuming all men were like that. Spending money on expensive gel so their hair laid just right, trendy clothes, the fanciest car they could afford. The pressure to impress was intense.

Piper furrowed her brow. “How did you date men like that?”

“I wouldn’t call the guys I dated men.” I’d dated hangers-on, guys I thought were my friends, or at least in my friend circle. I realized too late, the kids on the show I’d grown up with, weren’t my friends. The boys who hung around the show weren’t interested in me, only whether I could get them on the show.

“I don’t blame you. I don’t have patience for men who need manicures. I like my men rugged.”

I giggled, surprising myself. “I guess you live in the right place. There has to be a lot of mountain men―skiers, snowboarders―outdoorsy types.”

She laughed with me. “That’s true.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

Her face serious, she took a long sip of her margarita, as if fortifying herself for the conversation. “No one serious.”

Her lips pressed into a tight line, the look telling me she didn’t want to answer any more questions. Then she brightened. “So, what’s the plan for the shop?”

I didn’t blame her for wanting to divert my attention. “I’ll hire the contractor, pick out everything, then head back to California for a bit. I have some things to take care of there. I’ll be back and forth for a while.”

I felt guilty leaving my sister, Alice, by herself in LA. Still living in our old apartment, she seemed adrift with no plans for the future. I worried she enjoyed the party atmosphere surrounding the show too much. That she was hanging around, waiting for the spin-off show to get picked up. Without me on board as the villain, or Lillian as the popular girl, I doubted it would.

We talked more about the town. How the locals hated the increased traffic yet loved the business tourists brought. Telluride has a healthy tourist business even though it isn’t as popular as Breckinridge or Aspen.

“There’s just something about this place I love coming back to.” Coming here was a comfort when I was a child. We were dropped in ski school during the day so my parents could socialize with the other friends they’d traveled with. Riding the lift and snowboarding down the mountains was solitary, peaceful. The snow was quiet. There were no expectations or cameras.

My voice trailed, my gaze snagging on a man walking by with dark hair, a scruff-lined jaw, and broad shoulders. When his eyes met mine, my breath caught. My heart thudded in my chest. Then he passed by. He was gone. I couldn’t turn my head to follow him without attracting Piper’s attention.

“Did you hear me?” Piper asked, drawing me back to her.

“No. I’m sorry. What did you say?” I hoped she wouldn’t ask what caught my attention.

What if she knew him? The thought excited me as much as it terrified me.

Piper’s phone buzzed. Lowering her head to the screen, she said, “My brother was supposed to meet us here but he’s going to be late.”

“Are you close to him?” I asked, grateful for the reprieve.

I was hyper-aware of the man’s presence. I half-expected him to approach me, touch the small of my back, and whisper into my ear. A tingle shot down my spine at the thought.

“I am.” She tucked her phone into her purse. “I think my parents wish I could be more like him.”

“Why’s that?” I tried to focus on her and not the brief connection with the hot guy. Piper seemed like a good person. I couldn’t imagine her parents being disappointed in her.

Piper waved me off as if it wasn’t a big deal. “They want us to stay and work the ranch.

Henry is. I’m not.”

“Hey!” A woman approached Piper, hugging her.

“It’s so good to see you,” Piper said.

Giving her a chance to visit with her friend, I slid off the stool, touching her shoulder briefly. “I’m going to the restroom.”

She nodded, indicating she heard me.

Winding my way through the crowd, which had thickened during my conversation with Piper, I wondered if I’d run into the man again. If I did, what would I do? I hadn’t flirted with anyone in so long and I’d never approached anyone in a bar.

In the bathroom, I reminded myself why I was in Telluride. It wasn’t to pick up a hot guy in a bar, as much as I wanted to talk to him, to see if something was there.

Resolved to head home, I pushed open the restroom door, prepared to tell Piper I was ready to go, when I slammed into a hard chest.

Hands cupped my shoulders, steading me. My heart thudded painfully in my ribcage as my gaze moved from his chest, to the scruff of his chin, to his familiar brown eyes that turned from amusement to heat.

“It’s you.” His voice rumbled through my body, making me forget my resolve to go home and focus on my shop.

I swallowed, my throat unbearably dry, my thoughts jumbled. “I don’t know you.”

“I saw you at the bar.” His smooth voice flowed through my veins, heating me. My skin prickled with awareness. Every cell in my body aching to move closer to him; my nipples pebbled in my bra.

Unsure how to respond, I said, “I’m with a friend.”

Someone brushed past us, forcing me to move closer to the sexy stranger, the scent of his cologne surrounding me. I wanted to press my body against his, to feel the hard planes of muscle I knew would be under his thin shirt.

“I’m meeting a friend too.” His voice was gravelly, as if he rarely used it.

I couldn’t look away and unconsciously leaned into him.

He lowered his head slightly, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

Was he going to kiss me? I licked my lips.

With the warmth of his hands on my shoulders, the intensity of his gaze kept me anchored in place.

My heart pounded in my ears. I was going to let this man kiss me in the hallway of a bar.

No. That was something the producers would have urged me to do during filming. I didn’t do those things anymore.

Of course, I’d never reacted to someone like this before either. As if every part of my body ached to be near him. I didn’t even know his name.

His brown eyes darkened. “I want to kiss you.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” My body leaned closer, forcing my head back to maintain eye contact.

“I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever had.” His eyes held a promise of what he wanted.

I felt light-headed, an involuntary shudder ran through my body. I could imagine him lifting me in his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, and turning me to press my back against the wall. The ridge of his cock creating delicious friction along the seam of my pants, covering my core. The vision was so real, I drew in a sharp breath, trying to clear my head.

I’d only had a few sips of my margarita, so it wasn’t alcohol propelling us closer. It was chemistry. Something I’d never experienced before.

My mind warred with my body. I needed space. I needed to wrench myself from the situation. I wasn’t the girl I was forced to be in front of the cameras. I wasn’t impulsive. I didn’t do things on a dare or because viewers would tune in to watch what crazy thing I’d do next.

Without a doubt, I knew I’d enjoy his lips on mine, his arms pulling me closer, but as soon as he discovered who I was, he’d be disgusted. He’d want nothing to do with me.

I stepped back, his hands dropping from my shoulders, the chill from the room hitting me. “I’m so sorry.”

Shivering, I stepped around him, my stomach dropping with each step I took away from him. I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for―running into him, not kissing him, or walking away when my heart was beating a rhythm just for him.

My throat clogged up. I’d never experienced anything close to that before. Was it him? Was he the one person in the world my soul was fated to connect with, or was it merely lust I’d forget about in the morning?

Every step away from him meant I was being the person I wanted to be, smart and responsible. The unsettled feeling in my body hinted that I’d made a huge mistake, that it was possible I’d never meet someone I had an instant connection with again.

Piper was talking and laughing with a group of friends. She introduced me. I stayed for a few more minutes before saying my goodbyes. Piper asked me to keep in touch. I promised I’d call her when the shop was ready to open.

I’d keep my head down, open my barber shop, and prove the producers wrong. I could be successful without cameras on me. I could earn money for something other than selling myself out on TV.

Men like the one I ran into, weren’t for me. He was temptation, one I didn’t need in my life. I didn’t need him stepping in between my dreams, distracting me from my goal, and convincing me there was more to life than what I had.

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Published on December 30, 2022 13:49

December 18, 2022

Thank you for an amazing release week!

Thank you so much for your love and support of Mark and Sophie in A Chance at Forever!

There is something about a second chance romance that pulls you in and doesn't let go.

★★★★★ "There is something incredibly special about Lea Coll’s series and each book brings that concept home. If you like your love stories slightly angsty, with a serving of heat and steam and a dash of sweet and heartwarming, is the perfect read for you!" - Judy Ann Loves Books

★★★★★ "Once again be still my beating heart, Lea Coll has produced yet another brilliant romance in the Second Chance Harbor series, A Chance at Forever is everything that you would want in a second chance romance, a truly emotionally driven book with great depth in every page I turned!" - World of Books 65

★★★★★ " This one was a heartbreaking emotional romance you won’t want to miss! Lea's stories that grab your heart! Highly recommend!" Edie, Goodreads Reviewer

Support me by purchasing A Chance at Forever on my shop, or buy on other retailers.

It's your last chance to grab One More Chance, a friends to lovers fake relationship romance at 99 cents. The prices goes up on Monday.

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Published on December 18, 2022 18:37

New Release!!!

Sophie's second chance is finally here! She turned down Mark's proposal when they were eighteen. Ten years have passed, but has anything changed, or is Mark still the man she wants?

★★★★★ "From the first chapter to the last I was hooked on the story that Lea Coll wove. It ticked all the boxes for me with characters whose story you cannot help but fall for!” – Erin, Thelma & Louise Book Blog

★★★★★ "I absolutely enjoyed the story of Sophie and Mark! A great second chance love story who'll show you that it's never too late to believe in true love!" – Alice, Goodreads Reviewer

★★★★★ “.The conclusion to this series could not have been better! ” Jana, Goodreads Reviewer

★★★★★ "I’ve never read a book so quickly- as soon as I saw it was available on the online shop I had it downloaded it and read it in just a few hours. By far one of my favorite Lea Coll books. Such a cute second chance love story with the most deserving couple. I can’t wait for the next series!!!” – Claire, Goodreads Reviewer

The one that got away is now the one I refuse to let go.Enlisting was one of my life goals, so was marrying my high school sweetheart Sophie and escaping our small town. Nothing has ever hurt me more than when she turned down my proposal.I was stupid back then, heartbroken and foolish. A one-night stand was supposed to help me get over Sophie, instead I got the girl pregnant and ruined any chance of Sophie ever looking my way again.For the last few years I’ve focused on being the best father and soldier I could be. Now I’ve done my duty for my country and it’s time to take over raising my daughter, her mother insists it’s my turn. What better place to do it, than in my own hometown?Sophie has moved on and is now a successful bakery owner, but she’s still the woman I could never forget. My daughter is her biggest fan, secretly so am I.With a series of burglaries in town, Sophie is worried her bakery is next. I might not have made the right decisions all those years ago, but this time I’m going to prove to Sophie that I’m the right man for her.A future without her simply isn’t an option.

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Published on December 18, 2022 18:34

December 11, 2022

That chapter in my life is over

November was busy. I traveled to Houston for a romance author conference where I met a lot of amazing authors, then Philadelphia for Indies Invade Philly—thank you to everyone who came up to my table and introduced themselves, and finally, a family vacation to Treasure Island, Florida. We couldn't go to Sanibel Island this year because of the destruction from Hurricane Ian, but we still had a great time at the beach.

Now I'm happy to be home and preparing for the holidays and my middle child's birthday, which is the day after Christmas. I'm ecstatic to share my newest second chance, single dad romance, A Chance at Forever with you. It's live on my shop and will release on all other retailers this Tuesday!

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The cool air in the bakery had chilled the sweat running down my back, but it did nothing to lessen the conflicting thoughts I was having about my ex.

When I first realized who she was, my heart had stuttered under my rib cage, and it had nothing to do with the way I’d pushed myself on my early morning run.

She’d seemed flustered, her eyes wide and her breathing staggered. Inside, she seemed to relax, and that’s when I noticed she was wearing a pink T-shirt with the words “Sophie’s Sweets” stretched over her breasts. Those words and the way they emphasized all her curves had my imagination running wild.

For a second, it was like no time had passed. She was still my girl, and I was the guy she could depend on, the one she loved. I wanted to move closer, grip her hips, and pull her against me. I wanted the sensation of her soft curves against my hard body. I wanted to feel the familiar weight of her hair in my fingers.

Would she smell like sugar and dough? Would she be as sweet as she’d been as a teenager? Or was she spicier now?

Instead, I’d taken a step toward the counter to block the evidence of my arousal while she’d grabbed the water. When she’d turned, I’d realized she was even more gorgeous than she’d been in high school. Her lanky frame had filled out into enticing curves. Her thick, red, wavy hair with the dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks was the same. She was achingly familiar.

When I’d moved closer to throw out the water bottle, her breath had hitched. She was as affected by my presence as I was by hers.

My heart clenched at seeing her for the first time in a long time. We hadn’t been alone in the same room since she’d turned down my proposal. I’d tried to reach out several times when I was gone, and a few times when I visited home, but she’d been cool toward me. Her wary eyes and the hurt that simmered just below the surface made it seem like I was at fault when she’d been the one to say no to the logical next step—marriage.

Back then, I’d had no choice but to enlist. It had seemed so clear that I needed to leave, to escape my father and this small town. It would have been selfish to beg Sophie to come with me.

She was the practical one. I was the dreamer. The one who thought there was more to life than this small town and my dad’s business. She hadn’t felt the same. Maybe what we had was just young love, and it couldn’t withstand the test of time.

I picked up the pace to a jog on the last stretch home. The endorphins were already kicking in. I felt good. Each step that took me away from the bakery had me thinking about my future. Things had changed. Now that I was discharged from the military, no one controlled my life but me. Anything was possible.

Could I have everything I’d ever wanted, my daughter and Sophie?

It was still quiet when I opened the door, so I made coffee, then started to make pancakes with chocolate chips. Kendall always liked them when she was little, and I hoped she still did.

I wanted to make a good life for my daughter, Kendall, in Annapolis, but I had no idea what to do for work now that I was back.

When I was discharged, Kendall’s mother, Melanie, said she wanted to travel and it was my turn to raise her. Like our daughter was a doll we passed back and forth. I eagerly agreed because I hated that I’d missed so much of her life and was determined to make up for it.

I ate and passed the time reading the news on my phone. I was getting antsy when Kendall finally came down at eight in her pajamas with her hair sticking up.

Affection for her warmed my chest. “Good morning. Are you hungry?”

She plopped down on the end of the couch, her nose wrinkling when she saw my coffee mug. “No.”

“I made chocolate chip pancakes.”

Her lip curled. “What am I? Five?”

I bit back my initial response to remind her to be respectful. I knew moving here would be an adjustment. Kendall hadn’t wanted to leave her friends or her school.

For me, it made sense to move back home. I had family and friends here. It was familiar, and I needed that after being gone for so long.

I took a deep breath. “What would you like to eat?”

She rolled her eyes, and I held my tongue again.

“Why did we have to move here?” She’d made it known she hated small towns.

But I suspected her main issue was that I’d deleted all the apps on her phone. Melanie didn’t monitor her usage. I didn’t mind if she kept in touch with her friends, but I didn’t like the things I was hearing and seeing on those apps. She was constantly primping and prepping and then filming herself. All I could think about was who was watching my little girl on the other end.

“This is my home.” This decision tore me up inside because she would be more comfortable in the home she’d grown up in, but Melanie had sold it.

“It’s not mine.” Her jaw set in a stubborn line, reminding me a little of myself at her age.

I settled my elbows on my knees, drawing on the patience I’d used in the military. “I hope you’ll like it. That you’ll at least give it a chance.”

She snorted and looked away from me.

I liked to think I wasn’t the same when I was a kid, but I was probably worse. I butted heads with my dad every time we were in the same room together.

But I couldn’t let her disrespect continue. “I know you didn’t want to move here.”

“I want to live with Mom.”

I wasn’t expecting that admission, and I guess I should have. She’d always lived full time with her mother, but I thought she would still want to see me. In the past, she enjoyed our time together, but it was limited, and I always planned fun things for us to do.

It wasn’t real life. Now we’d be living together full time, and I was tasked with making sure she went to school and did her homework. It was a different dynamic. A role she wasn’t used to me playing.

“I’m sorry I missed out on so much of your childhood, but I want to get to know you better. I want to be your father.” I needed to be patient with her and let her get used to the idea.

She didn’t respond, but I took it as a good sign that she didn’t roll her eyes this time.

“I loved my job, but I hate that it took me away from you. I wanted to be there when you said your first words, took your first step, and when you learned how to ride a bike. I want to be there for you now.” I didn’t ask her if she’d let me because I didn’t think I’d like her answer. It would take time for her to get used to me being in her life more.

She swallowed and then nodded.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. It was something. A small step forward. It was more than I expected after the painful drive from Indiana to Maryland.

I needed to focus on Kendall and what she needed. I shouldn’t be caught up in a high school relationship that ended ten years ago.

I got up to move the chocolate chip pancakes to a container and pour myself some orange juice.

Kendall followed me and sat on the stool. “Can I have blueberry pancakes?”

“Sure.” I probably should have refused because I already made her a perfectly good breakfast, but I needed to pick my battles. I’d gotten a small concession from her this morning. I wouldn’t push it.

I mixed the batter, pleased that Kendall helped put the blueberries in before cooking them. Kendall brushed her brown hair behind her ears. She had my brown hair and eyes and was on the cusp of developing into a teenager. I wasn’t ready for any of it, but I’d figure it out. She needed me no matter how much she pushed me away.

She was still in that last stage of being a girl but not yet a teenager, and I wanted to hold on to that for as long as I could. It was the primary reason I’d taken away the apps on her phone. It might have been the right thing to do, but I knew I’d make missteps along the way.

I didn’t want her to put herself in danger, but I also didn’t want her to grow up too soon, worrying about how she looked on video, wearing makeup, and—God forbid—stressing about her weight.

“What are you going to do this summer?” When I was her age, I was really into sports, but Melanie said she wasn’t. I’d looked into activities, but other than camps and some recreational sports, there wasn’t much that wasn’t already full.

Kendall’s shoulders raised. “I usually hang out with my friends.”

“We need to find some girls your age,” I said, with one eye on the batter and the other on her irritated expression.

Kendall huffed. “How are we going to do that? You don’t know anyone here anymore.”

I knew Sophie. Maybe I could ask her. She had younger sisters, but they’d probably be too old for Kendall. “We’ll figure it out together. In the meantime, you can hang out with me.”

She huffed a second time, but I got the impression she was pleased. Melanie had worked full time, and I often wondered if Kendall was left to roam the neighborhood with her friends all summer. That was a recipe for trouble. I didn’t want that for her.

I didn’t have a job yet, but I had some time to figure things out. I toyed with the idea of going to school, too. I’d wait until Kendall was settled in first. Then I’d figure out my life. Right now, I needed to reestablish a relationship with my daughter. I needed to ensure that she felt safe and secure. I wanted her to be happy.

The idea of starting over rested heavily on my shoulders. I loved the military enough to be a lifer, but Kendall changed everything. I wasn’t okay with missing her grow up. I wanted to be more than a part-time dad.

I had a box of letters she’d sent over the years. They started out as hand-drawn pictures and had evolved over the years to letters where she told me about everything. As she got older, they got shorter and less frequent. She was growing up and away from me.

I only had this time with her. I was going to make it count.

***

As I drove toward my childhood home, my stomach tightened. I left town at eighteen because my dad issued an ultimatum, and I wanted to be free of his control. The only option that made sense was enlisting in the military. The recruiting officer said I’d earn a good paycheck, they’d shape me into a man, and, in the end, I’d have a marketable skill. I could even go to college.

I wanted to be independent, but I also loved the idea of belonging to something bigger than myself. I immediately felt like part of a large family, one that accepted me no matter what my homelife was like. I was following someone else’s commands, but I’d never felt so free and proud of who I’d become.

If I’d stayed at home and worked in my father’s lumber business, I would have felt stuck. My dad had this way of making me feel less than, like nothing I could do would ever please him. Even with Sophie here, I would have always wondered what else was out there.

Now that I’d seen the world, I knew the only thing that mattered was my daughter, and making her feel safe, secure, and happy. I wouldn’t be like my father. I wanted her to want to be around me. Not escape as I had at eighteen.

I pulled down the long drive of the property that doubled as my father’s home and lumber company.

“This is huge,” Kendall said.

My parents usually flew out to see Melanie and Kendall, so she’d never been here. I felt a pang that she’d missed knowing her grandparents better.

We passed several large buildings where supplies and equipment were held. The lane was long and dusty and frequented by large trucks. Finally, the family home came into view.

“I can’t believe you lived here.”

“It wasn’t quite this large when I lived here, but yeah, it was a lot.” I couldn’t escape my father’s expectations that I’d take over the business one day.

I wanted to have options, and if I’d stayed here, I wouldn’t.

I parked my truck in front. “Are you ready for this?”

Kendall looked from the house to me. “Are you?”

I chuckled without any humor, amazed that Kendall sensed it was difficult for me to be here. “My father and I didn’t always see eye to eye.”

That was an understatement. He wanted me to work at the lumberyard, not play sports or be involved in activities. He hated that I was seeing Sophie. He disliked anything that kept me away from my responsibilities.

Kendall touched my hand and then opened her door to slide out. I sensed it was her way of telling me she was here with me. We were a unit. I let that idea settle in my chest.

She waited at the hood of the truck for me to join her. With a nod, I continued toward the porch, taking a deep breath before I knocked.

Kendall raised a brow at the move. She was probably wondering why I didn’t feel comfortable walking inside.

Mom opened the door. Her eyes widened as she took me in, and then she enveloped me in her arms. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Mom never wanted me to leave, but she wanted me to be happy. She’s the one who sent care packages and letters updating me about the town and Sophie.

As much as it hurt to hear about Sophie and to know she didn’t want to hear from me personally, I ate up every tidbit I got.

“And you,” Mom said as she pulled away from me to hug her granddaughter. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

The teenage attitude I’d seen this morning had dissipated. In its place was a girl who seemed pleased to be getting attention from her grandmother.

Mom pulled back, her eyes bright. “Come in. Come in.”

We walked through the foyer, following the smell of baked chicken into the large kitchen. It had been completely renovated since I’d lived here. The wall between the kitchen and the living room had been knocked down so I could see out the large windows to the trees on the back of the property. “This looks great.”

“Your father finally let me have free rein a few years ago.”

Comfortable furniture faced a large stone fireplace. Not seeing my father, I asked, “You need any help with dinner?”

“Oh, it’s finished. I just need to set the table if you want to take the plates and silverware into the dining room.”

Kendall followed me, grabbing the napkins and the pitcher of iced tea. We quietly set the table. I was lost in the memories after not being in this home for a meal in ten years. Anytime I visited, I stayed in a hotel and met my parents at a restaurant. I needed to maintain distance.

“I didn’t believe it,” my father said as he entered the room.

My stomach tightened further as I looked up at the man who never failed to set me on edge. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

I sounded just like Kendall had earlier. My tone filled with irritation. Christ, he made me so prickly.

He stood in the room, his feet set shoulder-width apart, his arms crossed over his chest. His jaw was tight, his eyes narrow. Then his gaze settled on Kendall, and he softened. He lowered his arms to his side. “Kendall.”

“Grandpa.” She moved into his arms that he held out for her.

I’d never been present for her visitations with her grandparents, so I didn’t know how close their relationship was. But she seemed genuinely happy to see my father, in a way she hadn’t exhibited with my mother. Were they close?

Dad closed his eyes as he squeezed her tighter. When he pulled back slightly, he looked down at her. “Is it true that you moved here?”

Kendall nodded. There were no eye rolls or complaints. She seemed to have a soft spot for my dad. I couldn’t reconcile that with my relationship with him.

Dad ruffled her hair. “I’m happy you’re here.”

Was he happy I was here? Why did I care? I thought I’d gotten over seeking his approval a long time ago.

“I’m surprised you moved here,” Dad said to me over Kendall’s head.

“It’s a great town to raise a child. Plus, I have family here.” When I made the decision to move back, I wasn’t sure how Dad would receive me. I knew Mom would be pleased, but would he expect me to work for the business?

Dad scrutinized me before he finally nodded. “I’m glad.”

Had I finally done something he agreed with?

My parents had been upset when I got Melanie pregnant. They thought it was reckless and that a baby would ruin my life. At the time, I’d been trying to forget Sophie. It was after boot camp, and I was set to deploy. I wasn’t sure how I’d manage it unless I erased Sophie from my memory bank. She’d been clear that she wasn’t interested in creating a future with me, or at least, that’s how I took it.

We were drunk. I couldn’t even remember if we’d used protection. I was pissed at myself until I saw Kendall for the first time. I’d never forget what it was like to hold her, to feel her warmth and the grip of her fingers.

I didn’t regret Kendall because she was the best thing in my life, but it wasn’t easy expecting a child with a one-night stand while deployed. Instead of making my father proud that I was doing things on my own, I’d disappointed him yet again.

Mom came into the room with a casserole dish in her hands. Dad took it from her and set it carefully in the center of the table.

“I, for one, am ecstatic you’re here. We have so many things to catch up on.” Mom’s gaze flitted from me to where Dad stood.

There was palpable tension in the room between my father and me.

Kendall looked at me uncertainly.

“Sit. I bet you’re hungry,” Mom said as she left the room again.

“I’ll see if she needs help,” Dad said.

I poured iced tea for everyone and then sat across from Kendall in my old spot. The one where I’d spent countless evenings waiting for my father to come home from work. More often than not, Mom and I ate alone. She made excuses for him, and I wondered if I’d grow up to be the same way. A man who let his family down again and again.

I wanted to be different. I valued hard work, just not at the expense of my family. My father didn’t get that distinction. I was convinced he could have done better, encouraging me instead of putting me down.

I dished the chicken casserole onto Kendall’s plate, then mine.

Mom and Dad came back into the room with a salad bowl.

“Go ahead and dig in,” Mom prompted Kendall, who lifted her fork and took a tentative bite.

I wasn’t sure what life was like with Melanie. Whether she cooked or ate out for most meals. Was Kendall alone a lot? Had she wished I was there for her like I’d pined for my father? The thought settled uncomfortably in my gut.

I took a large bite of the casserole, chewing and swallowing. It settled heavily in my stomach.

“What are your plans now that you’re here?” Dad asked.

His tone was deceptively casual. Every argument we’d had those last few years hinged on this very question. What were my plans? Would I forge my own path or fall back on his expectations?

“We need to get settled, register Kendall for school, and find some friends for her.”

I felt Dad’s unwavering gaze on the side of my face.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Mom said.

“What are you going to do for work?” Dad asked.

I tensed. I should have known he wouldn’t let it go. “I have time to figure it out.”

The silence fell on the table like snow in the winter.

“I might go to school, but I have options and the time to figure it out.”

Dad made a disbelieving noise in his throat.

He didn’t believe in figuring things out. He believed in decisive action. According to him, the decision was easy: work for him.

I’d always resisted. I think it was the weight of expectation. It felt like I’d had no other choice, and I’d rebelled hard against that.

“They just got here. Let them settle in,” Mom chided.

We ate while Mom talked about the farmer’s market, who’d stayed in town and who’d left. It was mindless chatter to keep the air filled with words. I sensed Dad at the other end of the table getting tenser by the second.

I finished eating and pushed the plate back. “I saw Sophie today.”

I wasn’t sure why I’d brought it up. Other than wanting to share it with somebody who understood.

Mom smiled. “She opened that bakery a few years ago.”

“It looks like she’s doing well.” I couldn’t see much of the bakery beyond Sophie standing in front of me. Even then, I didn’t know if she was happy or content with her life. Had she gotten everything she’d ever wanted?

“She’s a sweet girl. She stops by to see me sometimes and drops off baked goods.”

It was a small town, and Mom told me how she was doing over the years. So that didn’t surprise me.

“Who is Sophie?” Kendall asked.

Shit. I shouldn’t have even brought her up. I wasn’t prepared to explain my relationship with Sophie to Kendall. Maybe not ever. “She’s an old friend.”

“They were high school sweethearts,” Mom said with a smile.

I stiffened. Why was she giving more information than I wanted to reveal?

Kendall’s eyes widened. “Why did you break up?”

“I enlisted.” There was more to it than that. But what could I say to a nine-year-old? I asked Sophie to be my wife, and she said no. The familiar rejection flitted around the edges of my consciousness.

“You didn’t try to make it work?” Kendall asked.

“She didn’t want to.” My jaw ached with the force I used to keep my mouth shut.

“Are you sure—” Mom started.

I held my hand up. “That chapter in my life is over.”

I didn’t have time for dating or revisiting an old love. Sophie hadn’t wanted me back then, and I wouldn’t get my hopes up that anything had changed.

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Island Fire by Amy Knupp

Island Fire, the Complete Series box set, is on sale for a limited time! Dive into a world of sun, sand, and sexy firefighters in the beachy small town of San Amaro Island. Includes 10 stand-alone stories, with friends to lovers, opposites attract, accidental pregnancy, single dad, second chance, and more.

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Published on December 11, 2022 14:35

December 8, 2022

My ex is back in town...

My hands shook as I lifted the key to fit it into the lock of my bakery. Being alone in the early morning hours usually soothed me. No one was out walking their dog or jogging. I had a few hours of silence before customers came in, and my solitude was overtaken by the morning rush.

But this morning, the quiet was deafening, overpowering the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.

Through the store window, the chairs were visible on top of the tables like normal. Nothing looked out of place, but I couldn’t stop the trembling of my fingers.

I startled at the thump of soles against the pavement. Was it an early morning jogger or someone up to no good?

Worried, I shoved the key into the lock, willing it to fit. When it turned, I pushed open the door, the alarm chirping. I glanced over my shoulder as a shiver ran up my spine.

A man ran toward me at a good clip, a black hoodie covering his head and face.

My heart jumped into my throat as I slipped inside, my hands already pushing it closed when a rough, gravelly voice asked, “Are you open?”

The man was close. Too close. He’d stopped in front of my door, his head down.

“No,” I said, my voice shaking. I needed to close the door, but the alarm was dangerously close to going off. I inputted the code on the pad next to the door, but kept one finger hovering over the panic button.

My desire to be nice to a potential customer warred with my fear that this could be the guy who’d broken into my friends’ shops.

No one had ever seen him, but then, I went to work earlier than everyone else.

I moved so that more of the glass door was between us. If I attempted to close it, would he shove his foot in the doorway, or would he use his arm to block the door from closing?

“That’s too bad.” He hunched over as if he were recovering from a hard run.

“Do you need water?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He wasn’t carrying anything and was probably thirsty.

Why had I offered? He could be the robber or even worse. My mind raced with all the possibilities. I could just see the headlines: Local Baker Found Dead in the Early Morning Hours.

I shivered, tightening my grip on the door.

“That would be great.” He lifted his head slowly, the cut of his jaw visible before his strong nose and eyes.

Warm brown eyes. He was so familiar. I knew him.

Shock flew through my system as my hand fell away from the alarm system.

“Sophie?” His expression was a mix of surprise and something else—regret?

“Mark.” My heart clenched. I knew exactly who he was—my high school sweetheart—the one who’d left. The summer after graduation, he turned eighteen and enlisted in the Army.

“It’s good to see you.” The surprise was gone, and in its place was warmth. So much warmth. It was like a cozy blanket I could wrap myself in. I wanted to fall back into those fuzzy feelings he gave me back then and forget everything that came after.

“You too.” It was still early, and my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. I was most likely weak from the adrenaline rush.

A few seconds ago, I thought I was about to be robbed, but even knowing who this man was, I couldn’t relax, not entirely. This was the man who’d walked away from me so easily.

Initially, I’d hoped he’d come back to me and admit he’d made a mistake. That the timing just wasn’t right for us in high school, but then he’d gotten some girl pregnant. And I shoved that fantasy down deep.

At eighteen, I had younger siblings to help raise. I couldn’t even think about building a future for myself.

“How ’bout that water?” Sweat dripped from his brow.

I was tempted to wipe it with my fingers, to run my hands through the hair that was buzzed short. Would it be soft? His hair had been longer when we’d dated, and I’d loved running my fingers through it.

“Sorry. Let me get that for you.” I stepped back, letting him enter before shutting and locking the door.

I wasn’t afraid of my ex—at least not physically, but emotionally, I’d be smart to keep my distance.

He wouldn’t rob me of anything other than my good sense and my heart. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

I grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerated case behind the counter, desperate to put space and physical barriers between us.

He sat at the counter to the left where I’d recently added stools for customers to eat.

I handed the bottle to him, and when our fingers brushed, I hoped he didn’t notice my fingers trembling. It had nothing to do with the robber still on the loose and everything to do with him.

He rested the bottle against his forehead and closed his eyes. “Thank you for this.”

I laughed despite my fear and the awkwardness of facing my high school heartbreak at four in the morning. “You’re not going to drink it?”

His gaze lowered to mine, and he slowly smiled. “I’m getting to that part.”

I blinked. He reminded me so much of the boy I’d dated. He was easygoing and fun, as long as his dad wasn’t on his case that day, and even if he was, Mark was good at brushing it off. I felt special because I was the only one who saw the real him.

He unscrewed the cap and took a long pull. I was mesmerized by the up-and-down motion of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

There were so many other things I could have been doing. Gathering ingredients. Starting the dough. Turning on the ovens. Instead, I was frozen in place.

Once he’d drained the entire bottle, he set it down.

“Would you like another?” I asked.

“I should get going and let you do your thing.” He nodded toward the kitchen in the back.

“I do have to get to work.” Yet I was reluctant for him to leave.

I imagined him sitting on the counter in the kitchen as he told me about the last ten years. It was a ridiculous idea because we weren’t even friends anymore. The familiar pangs of loss pricked my heart.

He’d tried to reach out after his mother told me about the pregnancy, but I hadn’t responded. It had been too painful, especially when I’d thought we still had a future. His actions obliterated that idea.

He stood and lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. My gaze was drawn to the very defined abdominal muscles. He hadn’t looked like that at eighteen.

Mark exuded masculinity and strength. His shoulders were broader, his arms larger, and his abs were more defined. I couldn’t stop myself from following the happy trail to the waistband of his athletic shorts and the bulge the mesh material did nothing to hide.

I swallowed hard. Needing water, I turned away from him. Fumbling with the refrigerator door, I unscrewed the cap and took a drink. The cool liquid soothed my dry throat.

Why was I reacting to him like this? We’d dated in high school, but we’d moved on. Or at least, I thought I had.

“I’ll get out of your way.” His voice was deep.

I turned around and pasted a smile on my face. “You’re fine.”

“I’m sure you have things to do.” He stood and moved around the counter. My heart thudded with each step he took, wondering what he was doing as he got closer. He leaned down, and I sucked in a breath, thinking he was going to kiss me when he tossed the empty plastic bottle in the recycling bin.

I startled at the thud of the plastic bottle hitting the empty can, my entire body heating at his proximity.

Mark turned slightly, taking in the dining area. “You’ve got a great place here, Soph.”

Goose bumps danced over my skin at the familiar nickname. He’d stopped in one other time during a town festival, but we hadn’t had a chance to talk. Not like this. “Thank you.”

He stepped closer and lifted a hand as if to brush aside the strand of hair on my forehead. But then he dropped it. His expression filled with remorse. “You’ve done well for yourself.”

After he’d seen the hurt I’m sure was evident on my face when he told me how he’d enlisted, he’d proposed. It felt rushed. Like he hadn’t planned on asking me to marry him. It felt empty. Not at all how I imagined that moment.

I’d said no. I had to stay to help my family. I couldn’t help raise my sisters if I was traveling and moving around at the will of the military. “So did you.”

He’d wanted to escape and to make a man of himself. Someone who would make his father proud. I had my doubts that anything would help in that department, but he’d been determined. I’d wanted him to get peace, and if enlisting helped him get that, then I wouldn’t stand in his way.

He frowned. “I didn’t get everything I wanted.”

Was he talking about me? Hope flooded my chest despite the rational part of my brain that was telling me he wasn’t mine and never would be. “I guess that’s part of being an adult.”

My response was generic because we weren’t friends or confidants anymore.

He nodded tightly.

“Are you back in town for a visit?” I asked, continuing with safe small talk as we slowly made our way to the front door.

Outside, the sky had lightened slightly.

He turned to face me. “I moved back.”

My heart fluttered in my chest. “You moved to Annapolis?”

He nodded. “It’s the perfect place to raise a child.”

I barely restrained the wince at the mention of his child. “Oh, right. Of course, it is.”

For a few seconds, I’d forgotten his betrayal. At eighteen, I’d stupidly hoped he’d come back for me. That he’d tell me raising my younger siblings wasn’t my responsibility. That I had an amazing future ahead of me, if only I grabbed on and took it. But then it all came crashing down.

He wasn’t free to be with me. He had other responsibilities, and so did I.

I wanted to ask if the mother of his child was here, too. If they were together, even if they weren’t married. But I wasn’t privy to the details of his life anymore.

“I never thought you’d move back.” The pain of him leaving was sharp in my chest. It dulled over the years but came roaring back to life with his appearance.

He was quiet, as if considering his words. Finally, he said, “Things change once you have kids.”

“Right.” I wouldn’t know, as I’d never had any. I’d just raised my sisters as if they were mine. It was a good reminder of how different we were. He’d been in the military for the past ten years, traveling the world and having amazing experiences, while I’d stayed right here, getting my degree from home, raising my sisters, and then finally opening the bakery.

I was a business owner. He was a father. We had nothing in common. As kids, we were escaping the reality of our homelife. For him, it was the expectations of his father; for me, it was the pressure to step in and take on my mother’s role after she died.

“Thanks for the water.” His gaze was swimming with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. “It was great to see you.”

I nodded, unable to say those words because this moment was bittersweet. It was like encountering the one thing you’d always wanted but could never have.

Then he was gone, and I regretted all the things I didn’t say. I miss you. I want to see you again. I want to know who you’ve become. I want to show you who I am.

I locked the door behind him and reset the alarm. Then I checked the clock on the wall to note I was twenty minutes behind my early morning routine. I did things in the same order every morning because I knew I’d get it done before opening. There was a comfort to that rhythm. Mark’s presence had thrown me offbeat.

I usually felt pride when I took in the white wainscoting, the frothy pink paint, and the dark wood tables and chairs. The marble counter was my recent splurge. I wanted customers to feel decadent when they came inside.

Now it seemed meaningless.

How could one encounter erase all my progress to get over him these past ten years? Instead, I was right back where I was at eighteen. When Mark told me he had no choice but to enlist, that everything in his life had led up to that moment. I was crushed. I couldn’t think about anything other than him leaving me.

He’d asked me to marry him, but there was no ring, no dropping down on one knee. The proposal felt like a last-minute decision. As if he’d just realized he couldn’t leave me behind. I needed more than that. I wanted to come first, not be an afterthought.

I told him no because I couldn’t leave. I didn’t have a choice, and I thought he understood that. He knew my situation better than anyone. My teachers always commented on what an amazing job my father was doing, but in reality, it was me holding the family together.

I’d hoped Mark would ask me to wait for him. He hadn’t. He’d moved on before the pain of his leaving dissipated. The familiar hurt burst in my chest, reaching every nook and cranny, making it difficult to breathe.

I needed my routine. I needed to bake.

I moved blindly through the store to the kitchen, my respite, my oasis. Here, nothing could touch me. Not Mark. Not lost opportunities or regrets.

I took great satisfaction in the stainless-steel counters and appliances. Everything was clean and sparkling.

I wasn’t my sisters’ pseudo-mother or everyone’s best friend and confidante. I was Sophie. The baker.

The girl who’d thought she made the biggest mistake when she let the love of her life walk out the door. I rubbed the familiar ache in my chest. That one act negated everything we’d ever shared. Made me doubt every sweet word, every kiss, whispered promise, and declaration of love.

I thought he’d regret his decision to leave. He’d come back to me, but when he left, I was apparently out of sight and out of mind.

I squared my shoulders as I pulled out the ingredients I’d need for the morning. I’d grown up in the last ten years. I wasn’t the naïve girl he’d dated. I was a successful businesswoman. I didn’t need him walking back in here and eroding everything I’d built, along with my confidence.

Besides, he was here for his daughter, not me. He wanted to give her a better life. He wasn’t here to right some wrong or declare his undying love for me. I was too practical to believe those fantasies anymore. People left, or they died. And those who were left behind had to pick up the pieces and move forward.

I sucked in a breath. Mark was here to stay. I’d have to see him around town and pretend he didn’t mean anything to me. I wasn’t sure I’d survive.

Effortless by Jennifer Van Wyk

Who knew a cancelled flight would turn out to be the best night of my life?He didn’t know what my life was like before he offered me a seat at his table.I don’t know how, but he could see I was crumbling inside.I had become an expert at hiding my true feelings and life’s desires but with Cash, he saw through the mask I had grown accustomed to wearing.That night with him was the first time I was able to be myself. He listened to me.For the first time in my life, I felt free, wanted, and cherished. But more than that, I felt seen.Our time together was effortless but unforgettable.But the night came to an end too soon.

Sins of the Syndicate by Lexxi James

IvyIt should have been just one night.One insane night where I tossed out inhibitions, my reserved nature... my brain cells.I let myself go with a total stranger.I had no idea who he was.Just that he protected me. Made me feel safe.And I did what any self respecting girl would do after a crazy, mind-blowing night.I waited till he took a shower and snuck the hell out of there.

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Published on December 08, 2022 19:57

December 4, 2022

New Release!

A Chance at Forever is live on my shop! I can't wait for you to read Mark and Sophie's story!

Enlisting was one of my life goals, so was marrying my high school sweetheart, Sophie, and escaping our small town. Nothing has ever hurt me more than when she turned down my proposal. I was stupid back then, heartbroken and foolish. A one-night stand was supposed to help me get over Sophie, instead I got the girl pregnant and ruined any chance of Sophie ever looking my way again. For the last few years I’ve focused on being the best father and soldier I could be. Now I’ve done my duty for my country and it’s time to take over raising my daughter, her mother insists it’s my turn. What better place to do it, than in my own hometown? Sophie has moved on and is now a successful bakery owner, but she’s still the woman I could never forget. My daughter is her biggest fan, secretly so am I. With a series of burglaries in town, Sophie is worried her bakery is next. I might not have made the right decisions all those years ago, but this time I’m going to prove to Sophie that I’m the right man for her. A future without her simply isn’t an option.

★★★★★ "Real, honest, flawed characters...you want to know. This is a second-chance, single dad, small-town romance with all the feels. The fierce and genuine connection Sophie & Mark shared and the absolute beauty of their friendship provides a rock solid base to build this engaging story off of. Their romance is beautiful and heart tugging. I definitely recommend this book and the series!" - Tara, Goodreads Reviewer

If you buy A Chance at Forever on my shop, you get all bonus scenes, the first 2 chapters of my 2023 Ever After Series' first book, Feel My Love, and a coupon for future purchases.

The Second Chance Harbor Series box set is also on sale for a limited time to celebrate the completion of the series.

Untold by Amy Knupp

My old-enough-to-know-better dad is getting married. Everyone is over the moon for him and his wife-to-be. Me? I want to be happy for them…but I’m struggling.Thank goodness I cajoled Chloe, my longtime pal, to be my plus-one. She’s chill, comfortable, fun, and supportive. She gets me. She’s exactly what I need to get through this tricky event.Now if I could just un-notice how incredible she looks in that fancy dress…

Lovestruck by Julia Jarrett

What’s my grown-up Christmas wish this year? For my secret crush on Hunter Callaghan to not be a secret anymore.

Everyone says he’s like a golden retriever, with his happy-go-lucky attitude and friendly personality. But I see something more – I see the vulnerable side he works so hard to cover with a smile and a joke. I see the man I wish I could spend forever with.

My wish seems to be coming true when Hunter reveals that he wants me just as much as I want him.

A Love Like That by Jenna Hartley

After my wife died, I never expected to fall in love again, let alone with her much younger sister.

Elle's too young for me, though.Too vibrant and cheerful to be saddled with a grumpy widower and two little kids.

Besides, she's only here for a few months before she moves on to follow her dreams.And there's no way we could be together even if she were staying.

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Published on December 04, 2022 14:23