In case you didn’t know, I’m also an author…and my best work has just been released!
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.
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.