Excerpt Wednesday – Trail of Destiny – Father & Daughter

Mar 25, 2015

It’s Excerpt Wednesday! And since I just love scenes between fathers and daughters, why not one of those?

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He took it as his coughing fit subsided and drank as if no one had given him water for days. At least she knew that wasn’t the case. Why, Jarvis had brought the jug of water to him just a few hours—

She sighed and sat heavily in her chair. Jarvis again. She needed to be more careful about where her thoughts went when she wasn’t paying attention.

“Hmm,” her father hummed, setting aside the glass. “My dear, I’ve heard you sigh many times since we left New York and before. That sigh was different.” He arched one eyebrow, a signal for her to confess.

“I suppose it’s because I’m tired from work,” she said, unable to meet his eyes. Her hands fussed with the black of her skirt.

“Hmm.” The way he hummed this time made Alice certain she’d been caught doing something wrong. “This passel of young men we’ve found ourselves stuck with haven’t been rude to you, have they?”

“Oh no, they’ve been very kinds,” she answered, a little too quickly, if her father’s knowing grin was any indication. “I mean, they haven’t been any more or less kind than they should be.”

“I see.” Her father nodded, his smile growing wider.

She was in trouble, all right. Her father was the most brilliant man she knew. Nothing escaped his observation. Unfortunately.

“Where is that nice Mr. Flint who has been instrumental in taking care of me?” he asked.

“Jarvis is outside, training with the rest of his outfit,” she answered, again too fast. She cursed herself inwardly. Whatever this was, it was happening far too soon.

“He and I had an interesting conversation this morning when you were out there helping in the fort’s kitchen,” her father went on.

“Oh?” she asked, too shaky to look at him.

“Yes. He’s a bright young man with a variety of prospects. And he seems to like you.”

She forced a laugh and risked meeting her father’s eyes. “I like him. I like all of the militiamen. They’re so different from the men I knew back in New York. They’re not as sophisticated or educated, but they’re brave and strong and helpful.”

“Some more than others?”

Alice huffed out a breath. She couldn’t let this war of hints go on any longer.

“Papa. Harry gave his life for what he believed in. He was brave and strong and helpful too. I married him. I love him. He hasn’t been gone for more than a year.” She swallowed the well of grief that pushed up through her chest.

“I know, my dear, I know.” Her father’s tone changed to sad and full of regret. He patted her hand, but was prevented from doing or saying more as another round of coughing seized him.

Alice refilled his glass of water and handed him a handkerchief, glad that her troubles could be ignored for a moment. Her father seemed so tired when he was through coughing that she stood and reached for her broom.

“I should let you rest,” she told him.

Her father hummed in response and rested his head against the pillows behind him. Alice turned to go.

“Don’t be so quick to hold onto grief, my dear,” he said before she could get away.

She turned back to him with a frown. “I’m not holding onto grief, Papa. It’s holding on to me.”

“Yes, well, maybe there’s someone else for you to hold onto out there,” he said.

A burst of frustration squeezed her gut. “Don’t get any ideas, Papa. Love is something that only happens once. I’ve had my chance, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

“Good girl,” her father said, more than a little drowsy. “But just because you’ve loved once, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t at least try something new to see what happens.”

His words left prickles on her skin. “Try something new?” The image of strong arms and fast legs and long hair let loose instead of restrained in a ponytail flashed to her mind.

“We are in a new land, after all,” her father reasoned. “Who knows what’s waiting for us out here? Just keep yourself open to finding it.”

Guess what? You can pre-order Trail of Destiny already! It’s on Amazon here or for your Nook reader here or on iBooks here.

Excerpt Wednesday – Trail of Destiny – First Look

Mar 18, 2015

It’s about time we had a good Excerpt Wednesday, right? It’s been a while. So how about a first look at the next book in the Hot on the Trail series, Trail of Destiny? Come read as young widow, Alice Porter (Emma Sutton’s sister) goes on the adventure of a lifetime while stopped and waiting for Emma and her mother to catch up along the trail….

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“How long has it been?” he asked. There was an even chance that his prying would earn him an earful, but maybe that’s what Alice needed to get some of herself back.

She was silent for so long as she worked her way through the basket of laundry that Jarvis didn’t think she would answer.

At last she said, “Harry was killed at Antietam, September of last year.” Her voice shook, but she went on. “It seems like it was a thousand years ago, and it seems like it was last week.”

“Yeah.” He pushed out a breath of relief and brushed his hand back across his hair. “It’s like that when folks die, isn’t it.”

She peeked at him through her pale lashes as she took the last of the shirts from the laundry basket.

“Sometimes I wish that I’d never met him,” she confessed, lowering her eyes. “And sometimes I wish I’d met him much sooner. Either way, we were meant to be together. At least….” She didn’t finish.

Jarvis’s heart thumped in his chest. He shifted his weight, thrusting his hands in his pockets, then walking with her down the line of laundry to the end. When she got there, she finished hanging the last shirt.

“Seems like you and I have a few things in common,” he said.

“Do we?”

He nodded. “It might be nice for the two of us to sit together sometime, talk about things. Strange though it sounds, sometimes it helps to talk about things in order to let them go.”

She lowered her basket and stared at him. He knew what would come next. She would shout at him and accuse him of being callous, and tell him she didn’t want to let her dead husband go.

Instead, she sighed and shook her head, then pushed past him.

“You’re very kind, Jarvis. No one has asked me to talk about Harry, not at all. Not even when we were married.”

“Well that doesn’t sound right.” He followed her toward the fort’s main gate.

“My parents didn’t approved of our marriage, so they didn’t want to hear about it.”

That was a surprise.

“I want to hear about it,” he said.

Alice stopped abruptly inside the gate, spinning to face him. “I appreciate that, but why on earth would any man want to hear a woman go on about another man?”

“Maybe I can help?”

She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, as though he’d given her a headache. Then she shook her head and put on a smile that felt forced.

“No one has been as kind to me as you’ve been, Jarvis. I’m not used to it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it.”

“Flint!”

The sound of his name being called yanked Jarvis’s attention toward the target range. Col. Connor stood with his fists on his hips while his brothers-in-arms lined up in a tight, sniggering row behind him.

“Oh dear,” Alice said, the barest, tiniest hint of humor in her tone.

“Flint, get back over here,” Col. Connor shouted. “You did not receive orders to pester our guests.”

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis called back and turned to go. Before he started off, he said to Alice, “Could we talk sometime? I’d like to.”

“I,” Alice stumbled, flushing as he sidestepped away. “I’m in mourning,” she finished.

“Mourning doesn’t last forever,” Jarvis told her, delaying as long as he could without getting his head chewed off by the colonel. “And after mourning, we could go for a nice, afternoon walk.”

He grinned at his own joke, then left her to think about it as he ran back to target practice. His father could grouse at him all he wanted for what he saw as making a mess of his life, but Jarvis knew that with a little patience, he could make Alice’s life better.

 

Guess what? You can pre-order Trail of Destiny already! It’s on Amazon here or for your Nook reader here or on iBooks here.

Writing Tip – Making Facebook Work For You

Mar 13, 2015

So there’s been a lot of panic about Facebook changing their policies or their algorithms or whatever it is. The rampant speculation is that they want you to pay to boost your posts, because FB has to make money somehow, right? I’ve seen so much anxiety and rage and gloom over Facebook policies and politics, and so many people are terrified of what it could do to their ability to reach an audience or have their books discovered, that I have to say something.

My Facebook Page Today

My Facebook Page Today

Here’s the thing. Since Facebook started making their changes, I haven’t seen a huge decrease in the amount of hits my Facebook author page has been getting. My posts are still getting hundreds of organic hits per day. All of the followers we were supposed to lose yesterday because of the latest round of changes? I didn’t lose a single one. I actually gained two. The doom and gloom that was forecast? I’m not seeing it. And I have some definite theories on why that is.

They say that when it comes to social media, you shouldn’t try to be everywhere, you should try to master one channel and be there in full-force. Facebook is that channel for me. I reach a lot of people, interact with them, and see results on a daily basis. Here’s how I do it.

The number one thing to which I attribute my Facebook success is the type of content I post. Once in a blue moon I’ll post what could be considered an advertisement for one of my books. Usually when I’ve got something new coming out. But long ago, when I was first getting into the social media game as an author, I was taught the golden rule by which I organize my social media life: for every one promotional post, you need to post ten non-promotional, friendly, interactive posts.

Really, it’s as simple as that. I see my Facebook page as a way to hang out with people. No pressure, no stress, just hanging out.

Okay, so what does “just hanging out” on Facebook mean?

A couple of years ago, I started looking intently at the kind of content that people like and share on Facebook. I asked myself what sort of things get spread around the most, what things I couldn’t resist sharing. It’s an easy answer: cute memes, cat videos, and inspirational quotes. And the things that get liked and commented on the most are anything where someone is asked to state their opinion or vote between two irresistible options.

I started doing two things. First, I started posting fun memes that had to do with my brand—memes about reading or writing or romance. Here’s the catch, though. I didn’t share them from other people’s pages onto mine. When you do that, the original poster gets credit for any shares, not you. It’s important to get credit for the shares, because any likes on shared posts count as likes for your page.

Simple solution: when I saw a meme I liked, I saved it to my desktop and reposted it myself. After a while, I started sharing memes from Pinterest that way. I consider it killing two birds with one stone, because not only do I get credit for the likes, most meme-makers include a link or some sort of stamp on the meme, so I’m sharing them too. It’s pretty cool.

The other thing I started doing was the Yummy Bowl. That was a simple March Madness-type bracket competition pitting hot celebrity guys against each other in the ultimate showdown of hotness. All I did was post two pics of lovely men who I knew were very popular next to each other and asked for people to comment with the name of which guy they liked the most. Comments are golden when it comes to ensuring your posts appear in people’s newsfeeds. Why do this? Because my brand is hot romance novels. My readership and followers are people who want to fantasize about yummy men, and who likely cast their favorite celebrity in the role of the hero of the novels as they’re reading. I’m straight-up appealing to the same hormones that people employ when they buy romance.

Of course, if you write a different kind of blog, you would want to have a different type of contest or ask different questions. But in general, I would recommend picking something that you know your fans already like and have an opinion on. Press those buttons!

Pretty sneaky, huh? The Yummy Bowl concept (which morphed into Who Played It Better for actors playing the same character and Man v. Man for non-tournament-style voting) allows me to have fun with my fans and to ask their opinions and respond to them directly about things. I am always very open to any match-ups that they suggest. But from a technical point of view, it allows me to keep fresh content on my page that elicits a large number of comments. Every day. Over time, that translates to your post showing up in people’s feeds more frequently.

The other, more minor but still important thing that I do is that I have my Facebook feed connected to Twitter. Every time I post on FB, that post is tweeted. But not the other way around. There’s an entirely different language over on Twitter that doesn’t translate well to Facebook. But even if your posts on FB are longer than Twitter permits, you can still get the whole thing across. It’s a great system.

And so, every once in a while, when I post an actual promo or advertisement, it gets seen. 90% of the work I do for fun and socialization helps that 10% of content that includes buy-links and calls to action. And it works. My posts are seen without me having to pay exorbitant sums (which I do for some things on occasion).

Let me know what works for you. I’m always interested to hear if I’m just a fluke or if I’m really on to something. And come visit my Facebook author page to see for yourself: https://www.facebook.com/merryfarmerauthor

 

Summer With A Star is here!

Mar 09, 2015

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It’s here! A story of expected endings, unexpected beginnings, and second chances: Summer With A Star, the first book in my Second Chances contemporary romance series!

Get Summer With A Star exclusively on Amazon
(and FREE with Kindle Unlimited!)
Add Summer With A Star on Goodreads!

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All Tasha Pike has wanted for the past twenty years is to rent Sand Dollar Point for a summer. The grand Victorian on the beach of Summerbury, Maine was the object of her childhood fantasy and her standard of romance—and it was finally happening.

Her dream summer is ruined, however, when she arrives in Summerbury to find that Hollywood superstar Spencer Ellis has muscled his way into the house instead. His offer that they share Sand Dollar Point is not only infuriating—it’s insulting.

He’s a celebrity—and one she’s determined to hate.

Spencer’s summer in Maine was supposed to help him get his head screwed on straight. One look at Tasha, however, made that impossible. She’s beautiful. She’s angry. She doesn’t care who he is. She doesn’t care about his fame. In fact, she doesn’t even like him.

She’s irresistible.

He’s only got the summer. She’s only got her heart. They’ve only got each other.

Get Summer With A Star exclusively on Amazon
(and FREE with Kindle Unlimited!)
Add Summer With A Star on Goodreads!

CLICK HERE to enter to win a signed paperback copy of Summer With A Star!

Summer with a Star – Coming TOMORROW!

Mar 08, 2015

Less than 24 hours, and Summer with a Star will be here! Let’s continue reading from where we left off yesterday….

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Spence heard women’s voices from the second floor porch where he’d stretched out with a script and an iced tea, but he figured they came from the beach. He did his best to tune them out and concentrate on work. The problem was, work was about as boring as sitting in rush hour traffic. He thumbed ahead a few pages in his script. Explosions, chases, dialog that could have been written by his eight-year-old cousin. He’d read the same story in five different scripts now, all of them pale imitations of the film he’d wrapped last summer—a film that was finishing up a solid run in theaters now. If he had to play another emotionally ambiguous FBI agent or cop or investigator, he’d punch something.

The two female voices grew louder, far too loud to be down on the beach. No, they were right underneath him, on the porch, and they didn’t sound happy. Glad to be rid of it, he tossed his script aside, took one last sip of his tea, and hopped up to investigate. Just like a cop in one of these horrible scripts. He grinned to himself as he crossed the upstairs hallway and circled down the big, open staircase in the center of the house.

Yvonne had struck pay dirt with this rental. It was exactly what he’d been looking for, the perfect place to hide away from the rat race for a few months while he figured out what he wanted to do next. With a hat-trick of blockbusters behind him over the past year, a pile of scripts that reached the ceiling, and more money than he’d ever dreamed he would see, it should have been a no-brainer to pick his next project. Yvonne was already breathing down his neck about not having the next three years of his life scheduled. But nothing he looked at seemed right.

Except this house, he thought as he strode across the elegant dining room and through the cozy living room with its huge fireplace. It’d been ages since he’d taken a real summer vacation, since he’d felt like a real human being and not a series of roles and accolades. He’d only been there for a few days, but already every bone in his body wanted to sink into the place and never leave. It was quiet. It was gorgeous. It was remote. No one knew he was there.

“…some third-rate motel, or worse, at home, because a real estate big-wig thinks I’m too much of a loser to live a dream for just two months,” one of the women on the back porch was saying. Spence winced at her distress. It made him want to fix something.

“It’s not that,” the other woman said as he stepped through the screen door and onto the porch. She was blonde and pretty, the kind of woman that turned guys into blabbering idiots at first sight. “Of course you’re not a loser. It’s—”

“Can I help you?” he interrupted.

Both women pivoted to face him. Both sets of eyes went round. The blonde’s mouth dropped open, but it was the brunette who stopped his heart in his chest. She was petite, with short, pixie-cut hair, bangs slanting across her forehead. Her t-shirt and jeans were faded and comfortable and fit her curves well. Her cheeks were rosy in her round face and her brown eyes sparkled. No, not sparkled, she was on the verge of tears. She took one look at him and sobbed.

“Spencer Ellis?” The blonde gaped as she threw an arm around her friend.

So much for no one knowing he was there.

“Yes.” He nodded, stepping closer to the weeping brunette. As badly as he wanted to help, he wasn’t sure what to do. “Is something the matter? What can I do?”

“Spencer Ellis,” the blonde said again.

“You’re the person in my house?” The brunette sniffled. She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands and made a valiant effort to pull herself together with short, gasping breaths. Her watery eyes stayed fixed on him, as though she didn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

An awkward itch spread across his back. “I’m staying here for the summer,” he answered as simply as he could.

Apparently, it was the wrong answer. The brunette’s bottom lip quivered. “No,” she spoke in a strained voice, “I’m staying here for the summer.” She buried her face in her hands and moaned. “Of course. Of course they would give my house away to somebody famous and perfect instead of letting me catch just one tiny break.”

The way she drew out the last three words shot straight to Spence’s heart. He hummed and ran a hand through his hair, glancing around the porch and off across the beach as though an explanation would appear or a director would shout “Cut!”

“There must be a mix-up somewhere,” he said, stepping closer to her, arms itching to hug her and make things better. “My agent took care of all the arrangements and booked this place last month.”

“Last month?” the brunette asked. She was tense from the top of her head to her flip-flops, as if battling to keep anger at bay and hold herself together. “I’ve had this house reserved for the last three years. How could anyone walk in just last month and swipe it out from under me?”

Yvonne. Crap.

“Spencer Ellis.” The blonde growled his name this time. She jerked her phone up and tapped on the screen “I should have known. Celebrities. You think you can wave a little money and a few movie tickets around and the world will fall at your feet.” She held her phone to her ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he told the brunette as the blonde stomped away. “If I had known, I would have—”

“She’s just over-protective,” the brunette apologized, sagging. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingers to her temples. A moment later, she huffed an ironic laugh. “The universe sure does like screwing with me. I should give up and lay down.”

Guilt and anger on her behalf hit him at the same time. That and the awkward thought that she had an excellent rack.

“I am sorry,” he said, blushing over where his thoughts had gone. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Let me see if I can figure out what’s going on here.”

“Please do,” she replied, weak with frustration.

He hated that. Boy, did he hate that.

He hit Yvonne on speed-dial as the brunette wandered to the edge of the porch and leaned on the railing. Spence watched her closely. She had a nice butt too, enough to get a good handful if—

“Spence, sweetheart,” Yvonne’s cloying voice cooed through the phone. “What’s up?”

“Hi Yvonne. Was someone else booked into this house when you found it for me?” He cut right to the chase.

“The house?” That was all it took. Spence could tell from the false innocence in her voice that she’d pulled strings and worked her so-called magic again. “I’m not sure, sweetheart. Possibly.”

“Yvonne.” He grimaced and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. “I told you to stop doing stuff like that. I wanted to find a nice summer house away from things so I could think. I didn’t ask you to evict the rightful renters.”

“I didn’t think they would mind, whoever they are. The real estate broker said they would send a nice fruit basket with a note of apology and a full refund.”

Spence shook his head. “Unbelievable. This is exactly why I wanted to get away for the summer.”

“Is there a problem?” Yvonne’s voice turned a shade more serious. “Those other people didn’t show up there, did they?”

“She did.” Spence said and ended the call. He growled and shoved his phone in his back pocket. It immediately started vibrating, but he ignored it.

The blonde ended her call at about the same time. “I don’t believe they would actually do it,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I don’t believe the Cavanaros would let them do it, but they’re in Florida. Dana says that someone was supposed to tell you and refund your money.” Her heels clicked as she walked over to smooth a hand across the brunette’s shoulders. It was a gesture Spence thought he should be making.

“This is my agent’s fault,” he said, joining the pair.

“It’s all so unreal,” the brunette said, blinking so fast Spence worried she might start crying again. “Twenty years, down the drain.”

“I’m sorry?” he offered.

She glanced up at him, frustration knotting her shoulders. “Some people are meant to get the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and some aren’t,” she said. “You’re one of the gold ones, I’m not. I like your movies, by the way,” she added with a surprise shy look.

“Thanks,” Spence murmured, more impressed with the soulfulness in her eyes than the compliment.

She swallowed and rolled her shoulders, standing straighter. “I have dreamed of staying in this house since I was ten-years-old, I guess I can keep dreaming. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

Her words might not have been intended to wound him, but they did. She pushed away from the porch railing and started to leave.

“What’s your name?” He stopped her, brain scrambling to figure out a way to clean up Yvonne’s mess.

She stopped and turned back to him. “Tasha. Tasha Pike.”

“I’m Jenny Young,” the blonde said, thrusting out her hand to shake his. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you in person. I’ve seen all your movies. You’re great.”

“Thanks,” he said as graciously as he could, then turned his attention back to Tasha. “Let me make this up to you somehow, Tasha. I feel terrible.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that, Mr. Ellis.” Tasha’s cheeks flared bright pink with shame, and she looked down.

“Call me Spence. And I insist on doing something.”

“Dinner?” Jenny suggested.

Both Spence and Tasha blinked at her.

“Hey, I’m just saying.” Jenny held up her arms in defense.

Tasha inched close to her friend and whispered, “Let’s go. I’m so embarrassed. We shouldn’t bother him.”

“No, please, bother me,” Spence said to stop Tasha from leaving. “You have no reason to be embarrassed.”

Maybe dinner wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Any woman who could send every last one of his protective instincts into overdrive in less than five minutes was a woman he wanted to buy a drink. And more. He’d do just about anything to make up for Yvonne’s meanness and help Tasha to hold onto her childhood dreams.

The solution to both of their problems hit him like a ray of sunlight. “Why don’t you stay here for the summer too?”

“What?” Tasha balked.

Her friend stood a little taller, a wide smile spreading across her neatly made-up face.

Tasha wasn’t wearing any make-up. She didn’t need to. Even with a cry-face, she was gorgeous. Spence caught himself smiling at the thought of spending the summer with her, at the whole grand idea unfolding in his mind.

“I’m here by myself,” he said. “The house has six bedrooms. It’s huge. I don’t really need it all. Why don’t we share?”

“Share?”

Spence nodded.

“Share the house?” Tasha’s shoulders loosened a fraction and she shifted her weight to one hip as if considering.

“Share a summer house with Spencer Ellis,” Jenny breathed in wonder.

“I wouldn’t mind if you wouldn’t,” Spence said, keeping his eyes on Tasha. “Look, I’ll even pay for everything. It’s the least I could do. My agent is a little over-eager when it comes to pampering her clients, and I’m afraid I’ve made her a lot of money in these last couple of years.”

His words had the opposite effect from what he’d intended.

“I wouldn’t feel right taking your money,” Tasha said, dropping her arms and shaking her head. “The one thing I can hold my head up about is that I’ve always paid my own way.”

“All right.” He held up his hands in surrender. “You can pay for whatever you want.”

She softened from wary suspicion to worry. “You aren’t planning to throw any wild celebrity parties, are you?”

“Definitely not,” he answered.

“I’m not going to wake up to paparazzi outside my window, am I?”

“I sure as hell hope not. I came here to get away from all that. Nobody knows I’m here.” He glanced pointedly to Jenny.

“Right,” Jenny whispered. “My lips are sealed.”

“Jenny’s lips are sealed,” he told Tasha with a smile. It was, admittedly, a practiced smile, designed to weaken her knees.

Instead, she chewed her lip and picked at one of her nails, clearly nervous. “You’re willing to leave me alone to read or walk on the beach or whatever I feel like doing?”

“I am.”

Tasha drew in a breath. She glanced out over the beach below the cliff as she let it out. Her doubtful expression melted to a sadness that grabbed hold of Spence’s gut. It was early summer still and a weekday. The beach was only half-filled with sunbathers and kids playing in the waves. Their laughter and happy calls drifted up to the house along with the soothing roll of the waves. Tasha closed her eyes as if letting it all sink in, as if she needed it to sink in.

“Okay,” she said at last.

“So you’ll stay?” He liked the idea far more than he expected to.

“I think you should stay,” Jenny whispered to her.

Tasha turned and frowned at her friend, then at Spence. Her face pinched as she thought. “Twenty years.” She pressed the palms of her hands to her temples and groaned. “I can’t just walk away from all that saving and planning, not after the spring I’ve had.”

“Don’t walk away, then,” he insisted. “There’s no need to. I’m a pretty quiet guy. We don’t have to get in each other’s way if we don’t want to.” Though he would very much like to get to know any woman who didn’t turn into a pile of giggles at the sight of him. “It’s up to you,” he finished as casually as he could.

“I’ll stay,” she said, dropping her hands and shaking her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, though.”

“Neither can I,” Jenny added, though for an entirely different reason, Spence was sure. She watched him with that giddy spark in her eyes that he hated.

“Okay, now that that’s settled, can I help you carry your bags in?” he asked.

“No,” Tasha replied. “You can go back to whatever you were doing. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

As much as it burned him that they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, Spence backed down with a sheepish grin. He had the summer to make it up to her, and he promised himself he would.

“I’ll just be on the upstairs porch if you need me,” he said, turning toward the door.

Tasha gave him one more guilty glance before turning and marching off to the front of the porch. He waited until she’d turned the corner before chuckling and shaking his head. Yvonne would be annoyed that the perfect vacation she’d set up for him had hit a bump.

He, on the other hand, thought he might like it.

 

And you can go ahead and preorder Summer with a Star on Amazon right now if you’d like! I won’t stop you.