I'm so proud to announce the release of my next book, Finding Home, today!
It's a holiday romance with some suspense thrown in, the story of two people desperately searching for home in their own different ways. It's got farm living, a bar fight, coveted family heirlooms, dark family secrets, city life, Christmas and of course, sexy tension etc.
The cover is beautiful. At this point, you've seen it, but let's show it again, shall we?
Here's the blurb, and
below the links, I'll give a new excerpt!
Jessica
Deitermeier is on the run from her family and from herself. The rings her mother
bequeathed to her upon her untimely death are worth money, and her uncle will
apparently stop at nothing to get them.
She makes her way
from Boston to Minnesota and finds work on a small farm. Everything goes
smoothly for four months...until the farmer's “prodigal son” comes home. The
dark, moody Ben Elkers shakes Jessica on a level she doesn't understand.
Ben Elkers is a
failed businessman. When he loses all his money in bad investments, he makes his
way home to Sauk Centre. After leaving his parents without so much as a phone
call for the holidays, he's surprised when they welcome him with open arms, but
even more surprised at the fiery red-headed girl sleeping in his old
bed.
Together, they
discover the importance of family and decide to do whatever it takes to find
home.
Buy it HERE at Resplendence Publishing today to get your holiday
romance read on!
If you'd like a
little taste, here's an excerpt from the first few chapters.
****
Ben inhaled the steam as he stepped into
the recently used bathroom. What a vision his parents had procured. And as a
farmhand? That girl should be royalty. Her crimson hair curling around her face
where the tie couldn’t hold it back, her delicate features and little snub nose,
the way she held herself—they all spoke to good breeding and wealth. And her
eyes, a vibrant emerald that nearly held him hypnotized.
He saw from her hands she wasn’t accustomed
to life on the farm and from her sweater and posture she had style and grace.
His mother had said from the girl was from Boston but she never talked about
home. Ellie had been warning him not to broach the subjects during his father’s
arrival and their homecoming dinner, but Ben didn’t know if he could hold back.
He wanted to know everything he could about the beautiful creature helping his
mother cook downstairs.
He’d had a lot of girls in the city,
especially in the beginning when he was so confident he’d spent loosely, out to
impress. Fancy dinners, investor meetings, penthouse suites…Ben had done the
whole thing. On his own dime. A dime he didn’t even have yet and now probably
never would.
But none of the wealthy blondes or
brunettes had called to him the way this girl was after only a brief meeting.
She had an innocence about her, tied to a protective barrier he couldn’t quite
make heads or tails of. He got the impression she wasn’t in Minnesota because
she liked the weather. Her accent was fully Massachusetts. He wondered what had
brought her all the way out here.
He folded a towel around his powerful hips
and went out into the small hallway. From habit, he headed for his old room. And
he ran straight into Jessica. The girl had just been coming upstairs, and Ben
reached out his arms, grasping her to stop her from falling backward. The feel
of her soft sweater on his naked skin sent goose bumps down his spine, and he
felt an unwelcome arousal creeping up beneath the towel.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a bit
breathless. “I almost killed you.”
She looked up at him, those soulful eyes
capturing his own and not letting go. As they stood there, a crazy impulse
swamped Ben and before he could stop himself, he drew the girl against his
chest. She gave no resistance, just a soft whimper of surprise. Her head rested
on his damp shoulder. She smelled of cookie dough, the old farmhouse and
everything he loved. His heart rate quickened, and he dropped his arms, allowing
her to step back.
She glanced at him again, under her long
fiery lashes, before moving past him, holding up the bundle in her hands. “I was
just going to replace the linens.”
She closed the bathroom door behind her
before he could respond.
When Jessica returned downstairs, Ben was
waiting for her, his hand on the banister. He was dressed in a black button-up
and tight European-style jeans. He’d combed back his black hair, and it stayed
that way because it was still wet. He looked sleek and sure of himself, a lazy
smile on his bow-shaped lips.
“My lady, the parents of the house request
our presence at the dinner table.” He swooped out his arm with a flourish,
twirling his hand and taking a mock bow.
She giggled and slipped her fingers into
his palm, her nerves tingling at the touch. He led her to the dining room,
rubbing the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb. Every muscle in her body
tightened at his movements.
“A true family dinner?”
Ben stopped and turned her toward him. “Is
there any other way?” he asked.
Jessica thought about it. She was an only
child, and before her parents had died, they’d treated the Christmas holiday
like any other time. Sure, on the day itself, there had been presents, maybe a
few carols, but certainly no special dinners. No visiting with relatives,
either. That had been completely out of the question. Her father didn’t have any
family, and while her mother had a brother who lived a half hour away, just
outside Boston, they didn’t speak. Even the mention of Uncle Travis’ name had
put her mother in a huff. Jessica had learned early on that she would never meet
her family, that she shouldn’t want to. She only knew she had some young cousins
from the note Travis had written her after the funeral. Whatever had happened in
those years before Jessica had been born, it was
unforgivable.
A throat cleared from the other room, and
Jessica found Ben's father, Harold, staring at them from his spot at the head of
the table. She felt sure he would reprimand them for stalling until the stern
lines of his face softened into a smile.
“It’s time to eat,” he said gently, “but
before you head over here, look up.”
Hanging above their head was a sprig of
white berries and dark green leaves, tied to a hook on a
string.
“The mistletoe?” she
asked.
Harold nodded. Strong arms drew her close. Of all the ways
she could have spent the Christmas season, she’d never imagined she’d be in the
arms of a dark, handsome stranger, sharing a kiss.
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