Coming April 5 – Beach House – a contemporary romance just in time for a beach read.
When Alli arrived at her beloved Beach House to recover and get her life back on track the last thing she expects to find is a border living there. Throwing him out is her first priority. The last thing she needs in a man anywhere near her.
Alex rented the beach house for the whole summer, depleting his bank account in order to get his head on straight and his writing back on track. Finding a woman on the deck when he returns from shopping is not only unwelcome, turns out she’s also the damn owner!
Two damaged people need to find a way to coexist and heal, helping each other in ways neither saw coming.
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Allison rolled her suitcase across the gleaming hardwoods to the sand colored tile in the large gourmet kitchen.
She smiled at the sight of her favorite bedroom suite to the far right of the great room, on the north side of the house and closer to the kitchen. She was able to get her things inside using the luggage as well as the cane to assist her.
The master suite had never appealed to her, stairs not withstanding. This smaller room was the one she had furnished despite Richardson’s snooty decorator, Sofia.
A soothing sage green in color, this room, like the great room, had a lovely view of the ocean and a private deck with excellent shade. The queen size bed left plenty of room for a sitting area and the private bath had a walk-in shower. No tubs for her in the near future, except for possibly the hot tub on the main deck.
Her chair stood in front of the glass wall. It was the one she’d fought for. The decorator hadn’t wanted it in here, didn’t like the way it looked with the rest of the furniture. Sofia had chosen two French style, horrendously uncomfortable and elegant chairs for the space. She’d gone so far as to tattle to Richardson, but for once he’d been in a magnanimous mood early in the marriage and waved it off. This was a beach house, not a board room!
Allison had chosen it, a chair and a half swivel recliner with a whimsical fabric of a darker green than the walls with red, purple and yellow shapes to add color and informality to the room. The fabric had made her smile. This was a reading chair, something she could curl up in.
The master suite, even if she could use the stairs, was not to her taste. Even though the house was hers, a wedding present, Sofia had decorated that bedroom in Richardson’s rigidly upscale sophistication. It could have been lifted from his penthouse in New York City. Nothing beach-y about it at all.
Unpacking could happen later. She wanted, no she needed to sit in a shady spot on the main deck and just breathe for a little while. Let herself revel in the belief she was finally safe and free.
Choosing one of the beach loungers in a shaded part of the deck, even knowing she’d have problems rising, she slipped off her shoes and ran her hand through her hair, releasing it from the ponytail she’d had while driving. She pushed the heavy red tresses away from her face and allowed the ocean to mesmerize her. Such freedom before her.
She was dozing when the shadow fell across her and a deep voice said, “Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?”