I got the rights back, so I re-edited, expanded and got a new cover!
Upon the death of her grandmother, Ashley returns to clean out and sell the family home. There she discovers Matt comfortably ensconced in the guest house, taking care of the family estate.
Matt’s love for the architecture and past grandeur of the old mansion tempers Ashley’s memories of neglect and abuse at the hands of the matriarch, and the town. As she and Matt work together, they begin to get the place, and their lives, back in shape.
Amazon, iBooks, B&N, Kobo, Amazon-AU
It’s available for pre-order now and will go live June 1. For the first month it will be $.99!
Ashley Winsted pulled her Prius into the driveway and stopped. She made no move to exit the car, shoving her russet colored hair back. She was in no hurry to get out and face what was before her. Just being back in this town made her chest tighten.
She had forgotten the sheer size of the house. Or she’d made herself forget. The structure had always dominated this block, hell the whole town. But it hadn’t been kept up for years. Now it only looked tired.
She scanned the yard, bushes overgrown, but not too shaggy yet. In any case, Mattie Winsted would be appalled. The outside wasn’t perfect. The inside didn’t matter, but what one could see should always be perfect, completely in order. Nothing was more important to Mattie than appearance. Nothing.
The house desperately needed paint and the bushes at least a trim if not removal, though the lawn had been freshly mowed. A Victorian house always needed painting, didn’t it? Ashley sighed and forced herself to open the car door. She stepped out and stretched. It had been a long drive, but at least she should have some privacy and quiet here to work. Her eyes immediately went to the cupola room over the large wrap-around porch. She’d coveted that room for more years than she wanted to admit. Still did, if truth be known. Why did it continue to hurt after all this time?
Coming here was difficult. It had been nearly ten years since she’d left. And the time away had been good. No longer that skinny, shy girl without a father, she hadn’t missed this place for ten seconds.
Thanks- this one is more autobiographical than most for me. It’s absolutely fiction, but I knew this story.