She’s
risking it all on a dream career…until his smile convinces her to
risk her heart on love.
Miranda
Cruz isn’t just the best darned waitress in town anymore; she’s
Red River’s newest innkeeper. All she has to do is renovate the
inn, find the contractor that has disappeared with her life’s
savings, and prove that she is the respectable business owner she’s
always dreamed of being. Easy, right? Especially for the intelligent
Miss Cruz who never depends on anyone, including a man. Until a
gorgeous old flame shows up and reignites a fire that has been
simmering for seven long years and could send her dreams up in
smoke.
Acclaimed
environmental architect, Talmadge Oaks, returns home to Red River to
settle family business. He plans to get in and get out as quickly as
possible because a professional catastrophe is waiting for him back
in the Pacific Northwest. When an unforeseen snag keeps him in Red
River longer than expected, he finds himself entangled with the
floundering renovations of his late grandmother’s old Victorian
inn. Handy with a hammer, Talmadge offers to help the inn’s
beautiful new owner, but his motives aren’t completely selfless.
Will his secret demolish everything they are building? Or will their
undeniable passion and love be enough to hold them together?
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Excerpt
from Chapter 1:
Miranda Cruze
was sure that getting hot and bothered at a wake broke at least one
of the unwritten rules of funeral etiquette. Especially since she
was the hostess.
Ms.
Bea, Miranda’s friend and mentor, deserved more respect.
The
scent of freshly baked oatmeal and raisin cookies drifted over the
bar that separated the kitchen from the dining area to fill the room
and hopefully bring some comfort to the mourners. Miranda pulled the
last batch from the oven and dished them onto a plate with a
spatula.
The
heat climbing up her legs to settle between her thighs was from the
oven, right?
Right.
Of course it was the oven. Or her black formfitting pants. She
probably should’ve bought the next size up.
It definitely was not because of
Bea’s hot and handsome grandson, Talmadge. His mere presence was
absolutely not the cause of her throat turning to chalk dust or her
rusty girl parts turning a flip or her need to stay on the other
side of the funeral parlor, the other side of the graveside service,
and the other side of the room. All damn day. Until she felt like
she’d been playing a game of keep-away and he was it.
No,
the heat seeping into every single inch of her five-feet-two-inch
body was not because of Red River’s prodigal son--a leader in
green architecture made famous for his environmentally friendly
designs and for bringing hotel chains around the world into the age
of energy efficiency--come home to bury his beloved grandmother.
Definitely
the oven. She kicked it closed with her black ankle-booted foot.
With a toss, her oven mitt landed on the outdated Formica counter.
When
she’d bought the small Victorian inn just off Red River’s Main
Street from Bea Oaks five months ago, she hadn’t considered that
her first public event would be to mourn the loss of her old friend.
She hadn’t considered that she’d have to figure out how to run
an inn on her own without Bea’s experience and advice. She hadn’t
considered that before opening for business, the renovations would
chew up most of her savings from waiting tables since she was
fifteen.
Obviously,
Miranda needed to spend more time considering.
She
waded through the ocean of mourners, offered condolences,
sidestepped a few boxes of tile that her contractor still hadn’t
installed, and placed the fresh plate of cookies on the table of
picked-over food.
She
arranged a few serving dishes, straightened the stack of napkins,
made sure enough clean silverware was available. And then she had no
choice but to turn her attention to the roomful of saddened guests
who had no idea how much Miranda was really going to miss Beatrice
Oaks.
No
one except...
Miranda’s
stare settled on Talmadge, who was standing on the far side of the
inn’s large dining room. His injured arm in a sling under his suit
jacket, he chatted with a middle-aged couple.
For
the tiniest moment, her heart beat in an odd cadence before it
caught the right rhythm again.
She
had known Talmadge would come to his grandmother’s funeral. Of
course he would. But a small part of her had hoped he wouldn’t
show. Another teensy weeny part of her had hoped he would.
Wouldn’t.
Would. Wouldn’t. Would.
And
then there he had been, his broad shoulders filling the funeral
parlor doorway. Eyes rimmed in red for the grandmother who’d
raised him.
As
they’d done then, her insides were back to doing the jive like she
was a contestant on Dancing with the Stars. Or a pole dancer at a
gentlemen’s club. Because Miranda was pretty sure that only a
person of questionable habits would have carnal thoughts at a
funeral.
Another
wave of heat flamed through her. Gah!
Sandy
hair slicked back, Talmadge’s strong jaw moved as he spoke to the
middle-aged couple. Mid sentence he turned and locked gazes with
Miranda like he knew she’d been watching him. His lips stopped
moving, and he just stared at her.
The
hint of a smile settled onto his lips, and she suddenly found it
hard to breathe.
Her
gaze flitted away, and she offered a kind word to a guest who walked
past, then busied herself with rearranging the food. Maybe the ham
should go next to the mashed potatoes? Should her homemade oatmeal
cookies really be next to the sauerkraut? And should her obnoxious
female pheromones be spewing sexual attraction so close to the
deviled eggs?
That
might actually be a health department violation, now that she
thought about it. Note to self: no pheromone spewing when the
inspectors come to give their stamp of approval.
Talmadge
returned his attention to the couple, shook the man’s hand, and
headed...toward her.
Shelly
Alexander
Biography
#1
Bestseller in Contemporary Romance
#1
Bestseller in Contemporary Women's Fiction
#1
Bestseller in Romantic Comedy
#1
Bestseller in Romantic Series
A 2014 Golden Heart® finalist,
Shelly Alexander grew up traveling the world, earned a bachelor's
degree in marketing, and worked in the business world. With four
older brothers and a sister, she watched every Star Trek episode
ever made, joined the softball team instead of ballet class, and
played with G.I. Joes while the Barbie Corvette stayed tucked in the
closet. When she had three sons of her own, she decided to escape
her male-dominated world by reading romance novels and has been
hooked ever since. Now, she spends her days writing sassy and steamy
contemporary romances while tending to a miniature schnauzer name
Omer, a tiny toy poodle named Mozart, and a pet boa constrictor
named Zeus.
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updates on new releases and sales, visit my website and sign up for
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