Monday, January 20, 2014

Welcome to Whitetail, Wisconsin


Welcome to Whitetail, Wisconsin,  home of Weddings that WOW!

RUNAWAY GROOM

Book three of Wedding Fever

Amy Sagar's life is in ruins. Fired from her fast-track job and dumped by her double-crossing boyfriend, she retreats to Whitetail, Wisconsin, to lick her wounds and regroup. Meeting an impossible, sexy Australian isn't part of her strategy for getting back on track.

Ben Armytage is running away. After being left at the altar and publicly humiliated, he's taking his vintage motorcycle on an extended road trip from Argentina to Alaska. Having his journey interrupted by a breakdown and sharing a house with a curvy, redheaded lawyer in a town obsessed with weddings was never on his itinerary.

Though being stuck in a luxury log cabin isn't really a hardship, living together with their broken hearts isn't easy. When the attraction between Amy and Ben proves unstoppable, they'll both begin rethinking their plans…


For more weddings in Whitetail, check out Saved by the Bride and Picture Perfect Wedding, available now!


Excerpt:

     Had Amy Sagar known that sabotage wore Giorgio Armani, she would have paid a lot more attention. If she'd had even a hint at what was to come, she'd have broken her open-door policy the day Jonathon Wiseman had walked into her office and, instead, slammed the oak door shut in his face. She most definitely would not have slept with him.

    As it happened, she'd been oblivious to the calculating deceit and the utter betrayal, which was why she was now standing on the front porch of a neat and tidy home in Whitetail, Wisconsin. It was 420 miles from Chicago and the Fortune 500 company she'd called home for the past five years. It may as well have been another planet.

    She rang the bell, listening to the high-pitched peep of the frogs while she waited for the door to be answered.

    An older woman with short, pink hair opened the door, her face friendly and inquisitive. "May I help you?"

    I hope so. "Mrs. Norell?"

    "Yes."

    "I'm Amy Sagar. It's been a long time but my family used to rent a cottage from you and-"

    "You're little Amy Sagar?" Delight spun through the words.

   Amy shrugged. "I am. Only now I'm all grown up."

   And it totally sucks.

    "What a lovely surprise. Why, the last time I saw you and your sisters, you must have been, what?"

    "Fourteen."

    "Oh, my! It can't have been eighteen years, can it?"

    Amy didn't quite know what to say to that except the obvious, yes, which was an easier reply than saying, and it makes me thirty-two.

    Mrs. Norell stepped out onto the porch, opened her arms and enveloped Amy in a huge hug before stepping back. "Now, just look at you."

    Amy wished she wouldn't. The last shower she'd had was yesterday when her life was as it should be-organized, scheduled and career totally on track. Now she stood in a crushed business suit, panty hose with spectacular runs and ballet flats, along with a ketchup stain on her blouse courtesy of the burger she'd eaten when she'd taken a break on the long eight-hour drive.

    "It's good to see you again, Mrs. Norell."

    "Call me Ella." Concern hovered in her eyes. "Is everything all right, dear?"

    Remembering how good Mrs. Norell's hug had just felt, Amy had to work really hard at ignoring the caring expression on her face. It beckoned strongly, tempting her to tell all.

    Stay strong. No one must know. Ever!

    She refused to give in to a momentary needy weakness and admit that her life was in the toilet. And it wasn't just because she didn't want to look tragic in anyone's eyes, although who ever enjoyed being pitied? No, it was because she was fairly convinced that her own stupidity had been the cause of her current situation.

    Smiling against aching muscles, she said, "Everything's great. I just had a hankering to see the lake and I thought, why not today. There's no time like the present, right?"

    Ella frowned. "Except that it's hard to see the lake in the dark, dear."

    Amy ignored the implication that perhaps she hadn't thought this trip through. "Do you still rent out the cottage, Mrs.- Ella?"

    She shook her head slowly. "No, dear. I sold it a long time ago."

    "Oh." Amy wrung her hands. The idea that the cottage wouldn't be available hadn't even occurred to her nine hours ago when she'd fled Chicago.

    This morning at ten, when she'd walked back into her apartment clutching the box of personal effects from her desk, she could barely breathe, let alone think. What had started off as a normal, everyday Friday morning had ended ten minutes into the working day. Her stellar career in corporate law had been demolished faster than a house of cards and she hadn't even seen it coming.

    Shocked and numb, she wasn't certain how she'd even got home on the El. She had no clue how long she'd curled up on her sofa clutching her knees and rocking back and forth, but she did remember the moment she'd raised her head and seen the photo that had been taken of her at the lake all those years ago. She'd adored that vacation. She'd been happy. Filled with hope for her future. Purposeful.

    The memory had penetrated the monotone in her head that had been running continuously since she'd been escorted from the M.M. Enterprises building by security. The one that said, You allowed a rat bastard to kill your career. You can't trust anyone.

    Coming back to the lake had seemed so logical that she'd jumped off the couch, grabbed two suitcases, frantically dumped in whatever clothes had been clean, put her house plant in a sink of water and had gotten into her car. On the long drive north, it had been the memory of that cottage on the lake that had kept her from driving into a tree.

    "If you're just here for the night, dear, you're welcome to stay with me," Ella said kindly.

    She bit her knuckle. "Thank you, but I really wanted to stay longer. It's been forever since I had a vacation."

    Ironically, the fact she hadn't taken any vacation time in the past five years other than the prescribed holidays, meant her severance pay included quite a few weeks of vacation time. If having her job stolen out from under her had a silver lining, she supposed this might be it.

Fiona Lowe is a RITA® and R*BY award-winning, multi-published author with Harlequin and Carina Press. Whether her books are set in outback Australia or in the mid-west of the USA, they feature small towns with big hearts, and warm, likeable characters that make you fall in love. When she's not writing stories, she's a weekend wife, mother of two 'ginger' teenage boys, guardian of 80 rose bushes and often found collapsed on the couch with wine. You can find her at her websitefacebookTwitter and Goodreads.

2 comments:

  1. I will check the Wedding Fever series out. Now I am intrigued.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This sounds like a great series!

    ReplyDelete

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