Five Stand-Alone Romances

Five short romances are included in this collection:

Love on Willow Creek: Desperate to overcome her past, Bridget returns to her home town. But will her high school enemy crash her business and doom the second chance love that’s possible?

California Sunshine: Santa Cruz, California is the perfect place for Sunshine to hang on to her hippie, activist ways. But will clutching to her causes prevent her from finding true happiness with an old flame?

Chasing the Tumbleweed: Captured by a killer at a lonely rest stop in windswept Nevada, Laurie keeps her wits about her as he drags her further into the wilderness. Will she be able to escape in time?

Christmas Hope: Clara needs Richards Handmade Cheese to complete her business’s outing of artisan crafts perfect for the holidays in upstate New York. But all Sam Richards wants is for her to leave him and his sheep in peace.

Keep Dancing: The twitching of Zoe’s pinkie is probably nothing to worry about. But it’s simply one more thing to add to her list of concerns: Her son is going off to college. Final grades are due. And widower Ben O’Reilly wants to teach her to dance.

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Read an Excerpt

Bridget Lawson glared at bank’s lobby clock. The minute hand hadn’t moved in at least, well, a minute. She’d been waiting ten of them already. Her roiling stomach clenched a little more.

A few bank employees busy at scattered desks and two tellers chatting with each other dotted the cavernous space.  Offices lined one wall like a rich person’s privacy fence.

A placard on one door announced, “Loan Officer.” A round woman with curly gray hair sat at a desk nearby. Through the sliver of window next to the office door, Bridget glimpsed a brightly dressed, bottle blonde gesturing at the person hidden behind the office’s wooden door.

Probably know her. Bridget had lived in this town most of her whole life, except for eight years on the rodeo circuit.

The door opened and the blonde flounced out. Her name pricked at the back of Bridget’s mind.

“Don’t forget. Sunday after church. It’s the least you can do,” the woman called back to whoever was in the office.  Without acknowledging Bridget, she waved to the tellers and left.

Now maybe I can get this meeting over with.

Bridget stood and looked toward the office. A man, presumably the loan officer, stood in the door staring after the blonde. She recognized him and stiffened. Tom Browdy had crushed her heart in high school, sending her on her madcap adventure of bad men and worse times.

She glanced at the bank’s outside doors. The vein in her neck throbbed. The woman who’d left in such a hurry was her old nemesis, Lucy Savoy.

By the time she turned back, the loan officer’s door was closed. She stood and walked toward it. The woman at the desk stopped her with a chill question. “Can I help you?”

Bridget glanced at the name tag on the desk. Abigail Bennett. Bennett. She knew a Bennett. Ah, Melody Bennett. Same class in high school. A quiet, shy girl. “Are you related to Melody?”

The woman beamed. “Her aunt.”

Bridget smiled. “I knew her in high school. I’m Bridget Lawson.”

“What can I do for you, Bridget?” The ice had melted from the woman’s voice.

“I’ve been waiting to see your loan officer. I saw that his last visitor just left, and I was wondering if I could see him now.” Bridget let her voice linger on the word “visitor,” for an extra second.

“Oh, that was Lucy Browdy. Not really a visitor, if you know what I mean.” Abigail picked up the phone. “A customer to see you, Mr. Browdy.”

The loan officer’s door opened.

Tom Browdy. Her stomach gave one more twist.

When he caught sight of Bridget, Tom’s eyes widened. “Bridget Lawson?”

She stilled her emotions and slipped on the poise of a rodeo queen. ”Hello, Tom. The teller said I needed to talk to a loan officer. I guess that’s you.”

“Um. Sure. Come in.”

She took a seat in one of the chairs facing his desk and placed her folder of papers on the surface.

“Good to see you again, Bridget. I heard you were back in town. What’s it been? Eight years?”

“Almost.” Exactly seven years, eleven months, and three days since she’d fled Willow Creek the day after she graduated high school.

End of Excerpt

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Short Stories for Women (And Some Men)

“Very good set of stories that held my interest throughout. … I enjoyed reading these stories and will be reading them again.” ~ Barbara A. Watts