09/13/2024
I've got two big hobbies - papercrafting and writing. In my writing life, I've just published a new book. Check it out!
Woot, woot, woooot! I'm thrilled to announce that Must Love Maybe is freshly published and available on most e-retailers.
Just below, I've included a teaser from the first chapter just for you -- come meet Ben and Lily in this return to hometown and friends to lovers, slow burn romance set in the seaside small town of Pumpkin Point.
I hope you love it...
Check out this little SNEAK PEEK!
Lily scrunched her nose up and by the tender, stiff feel of it, she’d sunburned it.
“Well, Cap’n Flynn, I should have worn a hat.” Lily nodded up at the statue of Captain Robert Flynn, better known as Flying Flynn or the Red Rogue, or Pumpkin Point’s own infamous pirate, icon, and scourge of the North Carolina coast. “I know better than to let my skin fry in the sun.” Instead, her hair was piled in a loose, messy bun near the top of her head, and unruly tendrils danced in the occasional breezes that squeezed between the tightly packed storefronts.
As she leaned against the base of Flying Flynn’s statue, Lily scanned the boardwalk to make sure no one was watching and blew a short puff of air at the tendril of hair stuck to the tip of her nose. It flapped a bit but settled decisively back in place. Ugh.
Her arms were weighed down with shopping bags and a handful of dog leashes, so there was no way she could use her hands to remove the tickling strand. She twitched her nose. Nothing. A tiny breath of air swooped in. The hair broke free, but if flopped back, as stuck as before.
Goodness, would the girls never come back? They’d been in the boutique for over twenty minutes. A bead of sweat trickled down her back. Not much in the way of a coastal breeze today to balance out the muggy summer heat. The sun beat down, and more heat radiated from the colorful buildings along Pumpkin Point’s boardwalk.
Her current pack of four dogs lay slumped at her feet in the midday heat with tongues lolling but with their eyes busily tracking all the boardwalk’s activity. They’d be needing some water soon. Where were her slowpoke daughters? She let her gaze wander from each brightly painted shop along Pumpkin Point’s prized tourist destination, the boardwalk. The weather-worn wood planks squeaked and thunked under the weight of the shoppers, tourists, and beachgoers.
In the distance, under the Columbo’s Pizzeria sign, the movement of drifting balloons caught her attention. A child wailed in distress. A man leaped into the air. Lily’s gaze locked on a pair of strong, manly shoulders encased in a sunny yellow Hawaiian-style shirt. With a long, tanned arm, he swiped at the ribbons dangling from the trio of pink balloons. She was sure they were too far up, but with a stretch, he snagged them.
A squeal of delight must have come from the child, and she could hear a few claps of applause. Lily smiled at the small heroism of rescuing lost balloons. It had been years since her girls had carried balloons down the boardwalk. She rather missed those simple days before the divorce, before the teenage years and boyfriend dramas, and way before the damn mall shooting stole the illusions of childhood from her oldest daughter. Lily willed her sorrow away. Wallowing in pity over the past would change nothing. She was lucky that Honor was alive and only had a lingering ache in her leg and in her heart.
At least Honor was relaxed enough to stroll through the shops of the seaside boardwalk with her little sister, Emmie, in tow. She envisioned her thirteen- and sixteen-year-old daughters arguing over which clothes to try on in the adorable Bee & Bee boho boutique behind her.
Lily shifted her weight from one hip to the other and wished the thin strap of the woven shopping basket wasn’t cutting so deeply into her arm. Two of the dogs at her feet yanked on their leashes, and the inquisitive Jack Russell terrier, Linus, sprang up at full alert as a group of noisy boys approached.
“Linus, sit,” she commanded, and the wiggling terrier whined a moment, then plunked his hindquarters down while the other three dogs tensed with perked ears and wide eyes. Lily motioned to Bella to lie back down and hoped it was enough to keep the rest calm. Bella was her dog, and she could trust the golden retriever to behave, but the other three were client’s dogs, and who knew if they truly had good manners.
The boys pushed and shoved at each other with laughs and a scattering of boyish curses. As if in slow motion, a flurry of ice-cream cones and cups of soda pop flew through the air and landed on the wood planks in spectacular splashes and squelches.
A cold and gooey nightmare splattered across her legs and knees.
“Oh man!” Lily’s gaze fell to the colorful blobs now sliding down her shins, and stifled a groan.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Bruh, no rizz!” laughed one boy, and the third just said, “L!”
A belly laugh threatened to tumble through her lips, but she just shot the trio a little side-eye with a quirked eyebrow for added benefit. Ma’am, indeed! As if picking up her cue, Linus barked with a distinct scold in his tone.
The boys mumbled another apology and hustled off. No doubt to get more ice cream since she was wearing most of their treats. The Jack Russell sat on his tiny haunches with a royal air while the other three pups sniffed at the blobs and puddles of ice cream and pop.
A wet dog tongue slurped along her leg.
“Gross, stop it.”
As if her words caught their attention, the rest of the dogs joined in to clean her legs of the sticky mess. Lily stamped her feet, but the canines persisted. She danced back and bumped into the outstretched arm of Flying Flynn. One foot hit a slick, wet puddle of melting ice cream. She wobbled, and her armful of bags started slipping.
A bright yellow shirt blurred in front of her, and a strong, muscled arm shot out and grabbed her elbow. She wavered, and her feet threatened to take off from under her.
“Oh no you don’t!” her rescuer said, and his hand cupped her waist.
Lily’s slide stopped, and she found her footing. Her gaze followed the muscled arm all the way up to a bright yellow shirt. Ah! The man from the balloon rescue.
“All good?” A pair of twinkling, hazel eyes met hers as he removed his hand from her waist.
Oddly, she missed the warmth of his hand. As she glanced up, words of thanks died on her lips as a spark of recognition flared. It couldn’t be. Ben?
“Lily?”
Apparently, it could be, and he recognized her, too.
“Ben Aldaine?”
“In the flesh,” he said and flashed his charming, lopsided half grin.
Lily’s first instinct was to fling herself into the arms of her best bud from school, but with her arms and hands filled with leashes and shopping bags, that wasn’t happening. Darn it. Ben’s gaze roved over her as he smiled, and Lily cringed at what a train wreck she must appear. Her hair a rat’s nest, and a hoard of beasts drooling on her legs. She only prayed that the humidity hadn’t smeared her mascara or left any damp spots on her tank top or shorts.
Ben, on the other hand, looked the picture of perfection as if he’d just come from a photo shoot for one of those coastal living magazines. Glossy, dark brown hair, sun-kissed skin, and a gorgeous square jaw with the merest hint of the dimple that she remembered. Ben Aldaine had been handsome as the boy across the street during high school, but he had grown into a broad-shouldered hunk.
“Don’t mind, um, me,” Lily said with a gesture at the canines. “This is my normal life.” She hoped he hadn’t heard her voice squeak. How had he gotten so gorgeous?
“I wondered if you needed rescuing from the flying ice-cream cones,” Ben said, “but I think the dogs have it handled. All except for one spot.”
He leaned closer, stretched out that strong, muscled arm, and caressed her cheek with a quick stroke of a fingertip. Her eyes half closed, and her thoughts turned to hazy mush...
Ready for the rest?
Delve into a new world of romance, mystery, and magic in the quirky, coastal town of Pumpkin Point, North Carolina.
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