Enter to Win a
Print Copy of SWEET HAVEN
SWEET HAVEN
Home Sweet Home #1
Shirlee McCoy
Released February 23rd, 2016
Zebra: Kensington
In Benevolence, Washington, the
Lamont family's irresistible handmade chocolates are a cherished tradition--and
always a reason to celebrate. And now they're giving the three Lamont sisters,
one by one, delicious chances to start again, make a change, and have their
sweetest dreams come true...
Neighbors who care, a peaceful
routine--accountant Adeline Lamont is glad some things about her beloved
hometown never change. But when her grandfather is injured, she has to run the
family store, Chocolate Haven, and make its legendary fudge. Trouble is, she
can't get the recipe right to save her life--or Chocolate Haven. And she
doesn't need her ornery new tenant, Sinclair Jefferson, stirring up the pot
with his help--and daring Addie to taste her wild side…
Once Sinclair gets his hapless
brother back on track, he's leaving Benevolence for good this time. He's made
his life far away from his irresponsible family and their scandals. Trouble is,
he can't quite stay away from Addie's optimism, enticing plus-size curves, and
kindness to those who need it most. But they don't seem to have a thing in
common--except that Addie's passion for chocolate, and for Benevolence, is just
as contagious as Sinclair's passion for her. Maybe small-town life has its
charms after all…
BUY NOW
Amazon | B & N | Google Play | iTunes | Kobo
Adeline
dreamed of chocolate.
Gobs of it. Dripping off the
counter, spilling onto the floor, bubbling over pots and pans. Tiny running through
the mess, the tangerine dress clutched in his mouth.
She woke with his scruffy muzzle in
her face, his dark eyes staring into hers.
“Go away.” She moaned, flipping onto
her stomach and pulling the pillow over her head. Before Tiny, she’d always set
her alarm for seven. After Tiny, the alarm clock had been destroyed, chewed up
while Adeline was in the shower one morning. She’d have bought a new one, but
Tiny had taken its place, waking her at the edge of dawn every morning, his hot
puppy breath fanning her face.
He whined, shoving his ninety-pound
body closer and pawing at the pillow.
“You’re a menace. You realize that,
right?” she muttered, shoving the covers aside and getting out of bed.
She yanked on yoga pants and a
sweatshirt, grabbed Tiny’s leash, and wrestled the puppy into it. Her cell
phone rang as she layered the sweatshirt with a lightweight coat. She glanced
at the caller ID. Granddad.
She answered as she walked outside.
“Good morning, Granddad!”
“It would be a better one if we were
both still asleep,” he responded, his gruffness making her smile.
“You’re always up at the crack of
dawn,” she pointed out, Tiny scrabbling at the sidewalk, trying his best to get
her to move faster.
Wasn’t going to happen while she was
on the phone. She couldn’t run and talk at the same time.
“Only when I have something to do
besides lying in bed staring at the ceiling and hoping someone will come visit
me.”
“Better watch it, you’re starting to
sound like a bitter old man.”
He chuckled. “Leave it to you to not
give me a lick of sympathy. Your sisters? They were very quick to reassure me
that I am loved and appreciated and that they’ll be here in just a few short
days to spend some time with me.”
“That’s because they feel guilty.”
She had it straight from Willow and Brenna’s mouths. They both felt bad for not
being more present during Byron’s surgeries and recuperation, but neither felt
guilty enough to come home sooner than May’s wedding.
“They should feel guilty. I’m an old
man, on limited time. It isn’t such a hard thing to understand that I want to
spend as much time as possible with my family before I go.”
“Granddad, really, you’re wasting
all this on me. Save it for Willow. She’s the one with the softest heart.”
He laughed. Just like she’d known he
would. “How’s the shop-keeping coming, kid? That’s what I really called about.”
“About as well as can be expected.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m no chocolatier. You know that.”
“You could be. If you’d put a little
of your heart into it.”
“I’m putting blood, sweat, and tears
into it. Isn’t that enough?”
“Not when it comes to chocolate.
That requires a little something extra.”
“Speaking of extra,” she
interrupted, anxious to change the direction of the conversation. Byron was
like a dog
with a bone. When he got his mind on something, he didn’t let it go. Lately,
his mind was on her taking over the shop permanently once he retired.
“I’ve been using the recipes you
keep locked up in the office. Are all the ingredients for Lamont fudge on the
recipe card?”
“Why wouldn’t they be?”
“I just . . .” What could she say?
That the fudge tasted okay at best and horrible at worst? “Wanted to be sure
before I make it for May’s wedding.”
“Haven’t you been making it for
daily sales? People love that stuff, Addie. They come from all over the world
to get it.” An exaggeration. People didn’t come from all over the world. They
did order it from all over the world. She’d gotten orders from places as far
away as Japan and Australia. Filling those orders would be impossible if she
didn’t figure out how to make the stuff.
God! Why had she ever suggested that
Grandad expand to Internet sales? That had been five years ago, and in the time
since he’d done it, Chocolate Haven’s profit margin had tripled. She knew. She
did Grandad’s taxes every year. She also knew that without those sales,
Chocolate Haven would be just another family owned chocolate shop struggling to
survive. Her throat tightened on the thought, and she took a deep calming
breath.
She would not drive the business
into the ground. She wouldn’t.
“No worries, Grandad,” she said,
trying to keep panic out of her voice. “I’m making the fudge.” It wasn’t
edible. At least not compared to what Chocolate Haven usually sold, but she was
making batch after batch of it.
“Well, that’s a relief. I can’t hand
the shop over to someone who isn’t capable of running it.”
“You’re not handing the shop over to
anyone,” she said, his words sending ice through her veins. She didn’t want to
take over the business. Not today, tomorrow. Ever. “You’ll be back to work in a
few weeks—”
He snorted.
“You will!”
“Addie, I love you like a flower
loves the sun, but you’re delusional if you think I’ll be back in a few weeks.
Once I get out of this joint, I’ve got therapy to do. Lots of it. Sometime
after that, I’ll be able to work in the shop part-time. Only God knows if
full-time work will ever happen for me again. The hip is bad. The leg is worse,
and I’m just about ancient.”
“You’re not ancient,” she protested.
“You say that because you love me,
and you don’t want to see the truth.”
She also didn’t want to have this
conversation.
“Granddad, you’re the youngest
seventy-five-year-old I know. You’ll be back full-time, feeling better than
ever.”
“Maybe. In the meantime, you’re
running that place for me, and I appreciate it.”
Running it into the ground.
The words echoed through her head as
Tiny tugged her along the sidewalk. She didn’t have the energy or he heart to
try to pull him back. She felt hollow and a little sad and more overwhelmed
than she’d been the very first day she’d walked into Chocolate Haven knowing
she was going to have to make all the chocolate, fill all the orders, keep the
Lamont family legacy alive.
“You still there, doll?” Granddad
asked.
“Just trying to walk the dog and
talk at the same time,” she responded, her words thick with tears she wasn’t
going to shed.
“How is that Tiny dog of yours?”
“Great,” she lied. “He’s learning
all kinds of neat tricks.” Like how to drive the neighbors crazy, how to dig
holes big enough to swallow cars. How to eat alarm clocks and wake her at the
crack of dawn every morning.
“That’s not what your mother told
me.”
“Mom
doesn’t like Tiny.”
“She doesn’t like dogs. Me? I’m glad
you got one. They’re good bodyguards, and a single girl like you might find
herself in need of that.”
“Granddad, the only thing a person
needs to protect herself against in this town is gossip.”
“Humph!” he replied. “There’s danger
there, Addie. Danger that I keep warning everyone about, but no one is
listening.”
“I’m listening.” And had listened, a
dozen times since the accident.
“You may be listening, but you’re
not believing,” he growled. “Of course, that’s better than what your mother is
doing. By a long shot, it’s better.”
Uh-oh. This wasn’t going to be good.
Granddad and Janelle got along great. Until they didn’t. “What’s Mom doing?”
“Telling everyone that I’ve lost my
marbles.”
“She isn’t telling people that, and
you know it,” she protested. She wasn’t certain, though. Janelle had strong
opinions about things. Currently, she was convinced that Byron had hit his head
when he fell and that hitting his head had caused him some memory loss and
confusion.
“She is. She told the doctor she
thought I have dementia.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“From the doctor. Guy was asking me
a few too many questions about presidents and birthdays and moon landings, and
I wanted to know why. Your mother”—he nearly spit the word—“told him that she thought
I might be having problems with my memory.”
“She’s just worried about you,
Granddad.”
“Because there was someone in my
apartment and I had the nerve to say it?” he demanded. He was getting riled up,
heading back to the story that he’d been telling since he’d fallen down his
apartment stairs—
someone
standing in the hallway of his apartment when he’d returned home, his quick
dash outside to call for help, the tumble down the stairs.
“You know that James McDermott saw
you fall,” she said, her grip on Tiny’s leash a little tighter than it had
been. Not because of the dog. Because of Granddad. They’d been down this path
before. Several times, actually.It had yet to end well.
Shirlee McCoy spent her childhood making up stories and acting them out
with her sister. It wasn’t long before she discovered Nancy Drew, The Hardy
Boys, her mother’s gothic romances . . . and became an ardent fan of romantic
suspense. She still enjoys losing herself in a good book. And she still loves
making up stories. Shirlee and her husband live in Washington and have five
children. Readers can visit her website at www.shirleemccoy.com
Thank you for hosting SWEET HAVEN today!
ReplyDeleteCrystal, Tasty Book Tours