Title: Love in a Small Town
ISBN: 978-1-62420-200-1
Author: Joyce Zeller
Email: author@joycezeller.com
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 4
TAGLINE
A
lonely widower and his teenage step-daughter both find love in a small town.
BLURB
When Chicagoan, David Martin, moves to
Eureka Springs with his step-daughter, he is escaping urban America and all its
violence, as well as memories of his deceased wife. A marriage of convenience
ended in tragedy and left him to raise a fifteen-year-old daughter whom he has
only known for two years. Both father and daughter are testing foreign waters:
new home, school and work. Neither expected it, but where there is a will,
there is love in a small town.
EXCERPT
David
Martin settled into the cushioned chaise on his front porch, waiting. His
blonde good looks and lithe body, usually relaxed with the confidence of a successful
man enjoying his domain, was taut with tension, ready for battle. Eyes
narrowed, he searched for the quarry he knew was out there. Rampantly overgrown
shrubbery provided a wealth of hiding places among the Victorian gingerbread
cottages lining the narrow neighborhood street. Overhead, an unbroken canopy of
massive shade trees kept the street dark.
Someone is stalking Sarah.
A
shadow moved behind an oleander across the street. There he was, at it again, a
strange boy lurking in the bushes, waiting for David's teenage stepdaughter to
come walking home from school.
Damn.
David
thought he'd left behind the sick predators, the violence, and the dangers
associated with big city living when he decided on the move to Eureka Springs,
a Southern town only a day's drive from Chicago. Here they'd have all the peace
and security of a small town. He should've known better. He should've listened
to Sarah, but he had been in a panic at his sudden role of a widowed,
single-parent dad to a daughter he hardly knew, and the responsibility it
entailed.
Fortunately, making a living was no problem. As an
investment specialist, a Certified Financial Analyst, he managed a small, but
select client list of portfolios, which provided a very satisfactory income. He
could do business anywhere the Internet was available. He'd chosen this area
of the Arkansas Ozarks after learning of it from some of his clients who
retired here. The added benefit of two major airports close-by for easy access
to any major financial center made moving here a no brainer.
Sarah objected bitterly to
leaving all her friends, but he ignored all her protests. Never mind. He knew
best; had it all figured out. Well, he
was wrong. Moving her away from a sheltered, privileged lifestyle in a
private school to a rural environment where she had nothing in common with the
people around her was a mistake. God,
what a complacent ass he'd become. All he'd gained for his trouble was Sarah's misery.
The boy following her home
was about fifteen, Sarah's age, wearing dirty, wrinkled camos that should've
been in the laundry days ago. His lank, dark hair hung over his face and down
to his chin. Definitely a loser in David's mind.
The wild barking of the dog
down the street heralded Sarah's arrival. David tensed, prepared to move at the
first sign of trouble. There she was, trudging up the hill. He hated her look
of defeat; the way she put one foot in front of the other, muttering to
herself, kicking at the weeds growing through the broken sidewalk. Her misery,
but all his fault.
Hell,
Anne, what have I done to your beautiful daughter? Two years was not enough
time to get to know her. She's become someone you wouldn't recognize, wearing
those god-awful clothes, and the way she paints her face white, with dark
circles around her eyes, dark lipstick, and black nail polish. What's that all
about? She’d cut her long blonde hair too short, and colored it green, for
God's sake.
She had him completely
baffled. His own up-bringing as an only child raised in wealth, more by tutors
than continually absent parents, was piss-poor preparation for
single-parenthood, and thirty-five was too late to start, especially with a
daughter who was virtually a stranger to him.
Sarah sensed the boy's presence, David
was sure of it, because she'd stop at intervals, and look around, wary and
ready to run. Big city fears, honed to a sharp edge by necessity, and carried
as baggage to a new place, were hard to forget. Even in a town as small and
old-world as Eureka Springs.
Damn,
it's hot.
Greedily, he drank from his
glass and watched Sarah approach. Though autumn nights in the south tended to
be cool, the daytime heat and humidity held on relentlessly.
The boy moved, keeping pace
with her, but remained hidden.
If
he touches her, I'll kill him. She's had too much pain in her life to deserve
this.
Sarah stopped across the
street to talk to the neighbor's dog, an ugly mix of Australian Shepherd and
beagle, but beautiful to his soft-hearted daughter. The ruckus of his barking
didn't deter her from pulling a treat from the pocket of her sweater and giving
it to the dog through the fancy wrought-iron fence, one like all those fronting
the old-style houses on the street.
She turned, saw him, waved,
and headed over.
Where the hell did she get
that ratty old sweater? It sagged from her shoulders and hung to her knees.
"Hi, David."
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