AN INTERVIEW WITH SIDNEW GARTON

 By Caroline Clemmons

Dear Readers, please help me welcome today’s guest, Sidney Garton, owner of Garton’s Mercantile in Harrigan Springs, Texas.

He is over six feet tall with brown hair showing a few strands of gray. His piercing ice blue eyes sparkle with mirth and echo his friendly smile. I’d guess his age to be in his late twenties.

He sits across from me.

 CC: Welcome, Mr. Garton. Thank you for agreeing to an interview today.

SG: Please call me Sid. I’m honored to be here, though I’m not sure why you invited me.

CC: We’re eager to learn more about you. Where did you grow up?

SG: St. Louis, Missouri is where my grandparents settled, and my folks still live there. It’s a nice place. Have you been there?

CC: Yes, and I agree it’s a nice city. What does your family do there?

SG: Grandpa established his mercantile and sold merchandise to folks moving West as well as to the local residents. Papa added a wholesale dry goods business to other, smaller stores. I started working in the retail store when I was old enough to push a broom.

CC: Sounds industrious, Sid. How did you come to move to Texas?

SG: You see, I’ve always understood my older brother—his name is Caleb—will inherit the St. Louis store. I dreamed of having my own store. Ben Hathaway and Papa were childhood friends who’ve kept in touch. Ben wrote Papa that the store in Harrigan Springs was going to be up for sale and needed improving. Ben suggested Papa buy it, but I sure wanted to be the one who purchased it.

CC: You’re young to be setting yourself up in such a large business.

SG: Yes, ma'am, but I’d saved all I could from my salary. Papa paid me to work in the store after I turned thirteen, but I lived at home and didn’t have many expenses. I had enough to make the down payment. The place was in pretty bad shape but includes spacious living quarters upstairs. I’ve had to make a lot of improvements and changes on the store and living space, plus I added a large warehouse.

CC: That must have been difficult for you. How did you manage it?

SG: I worked long hours but couldn’t have managed if the bank hadn’t loaned me more money to expand. I’ve had to pinch every cent. Now, I’m finally at a place where I feel more comfortable financially.

CC: What about your personal life, Sid?

SG: (Sid chuckles.) Not much of one, especially since my wife Bethany died.

CC: My condolences, Sid. When and how did she pass?

SG: Of Cancer a  little over two years ago. Sure was hard to watch her suffer. We’d known each other all our lives. Can’t tell you how much I’ve missed her calm presence and sweet smile.

CC: That would have been very difficult. You must have some hobbies or outlets to relieve the effects of your hard work. What are they?

SG: People in Harrigan Springs are friendly, or most of them are. I enjoy talking to customers or those who stop by just to say hello and drink a cup of coffee. On Tuesday evening I host a card game. We play for pennies. (He chuckles again.) Mostly we just talk to each other. Usually the players include my three best friends, sometimes two or three more. Once or twice a week, I take my horse Blackjack for an hour’s ride. I attend church on Sunday morning, but don’t always make the other meetings. I take part in church and civic activities when I can. There’s always something happening in town.

CC: Sounds like a busy schedule. How many people help you in the store?

SG: So far, it’s just me, but my friends have been nagging me to remarry, and then a wife could help me in the store and cook meals, and such. There isn’t anyone locally who is the right age and disposition. Levi Iverson gave me the name of a matchmaker in New Orleans. So, I sent away for a mail order bride. I don’t know whether to be eager for her to arrive or afraid of whom I might end up marrying. (He pulls out his pocket watch.) I’m sorry, Mrs. Clemmons, but I have to get to the store and open for the day.

CC: Of course, Sid. Thank you for coming in so early and for answering my questions.

Sid smiles and gives a half-bow before hurrying out the door.

Readers, to learn about Sid’s mail order bride, Antoinette Fournier, and their adventures and romance, get your copy of SIDNEY AND THE MAIL ORDER BRIDE, Book 6 of the Texas Hill Country Mail Order Bride Series. You’ll find it in e-book and paperback at Amazon here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DNTP95FD

 It is also enrolled in Kindle Unlimited.

Thanks for stopping by. Stay safe and be kind to others and yourself.

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT FOR YOU

 By Caroline  Clemmons

Happy Birthday To Me!

Yes, once again it’s the annual celebration of my 39^th birthday. So, I have a present for YOU.

I decided to give away 5 Amazon gift cards of $5.00 each to readers who enter the contest. All you have to do to enter is answer one question that can be found in the FREE reader sample of my sweet historical western romance, GENTREY AND THE MAIL ORDER BRIDE. 

https://www.amazon.com/Gentry-Texas-Country-Order-Brides-ebook/dp/B0B6YN6QHK

The question is:

What is the name of the heroine’s selfish sister?

 Email the answer to caroline @ carolineclemmons dot com.  Contest ends at midnight September 15, 2024 central standard time.

Here’s the blurb for the book:

Sometimes the perfect match is the one you didn’t expect.

Nothing much riles Gentry McRae. He works hard on the ranch he co-owns with his best friend, and is content with his life. He’s proud of all they’ve accomplished in the ten years since the war. That is, until his partner dies and leaves a fourth of the ranch to his mail-order bride—and wills the bride to Gentry.

“Now just a doggone minute, I don’t plan to marry for years!”

But, a single woman can’t reside on a ranch where four men live without ruining her reputation. What’s a good man to do, except marry the woman when she arrives?

Adelheid "Heidi" Roth has been spurned for being too plainspoken and too tall. In addition, her sister constantly makes fun of her for those reasons. That’s why—with many doubts—she’s willing to travel for months from Bavaria to Texas to marry a man who once lived in her town. When she arrives, she learns her prospective groom is dead, but left her a fourth of his share of a ranch. She has serious doubts, but agrees to wed Gentry to protect her reputation. Sure enough, from the next day, one event after the other happens. Is this the life she wants?

Thanks for stopping by!

Reinventing Riley: A New Season Story by Liz Flaherty

Reinventing Riley:  A New Season Story

by Liz Flaherty

 Buy Link

Amazon Buy Link

Book Blurb:

A New Season, Book 2 – Reinventing Riley 

A month ago, I told you about how A New Season began—with the crossing of a bridge into somewhere or something different, something new—something that is a change. Only this time it was a real bridge. I don’t remember where we were, but the green sign identifying the span identified it as Fallen Soldier Bridge. 

I told you about Syd Cavanaugh then. Today I’m introducing her best friend, Riley Winters. 

Living in Central Indiana among a gathering of small towns, one of the fun things for me about visiting cities is their tall buildings. I find them amazing and exciting. I like craning my neck in search of the sky, eating at restaurants not available in cornfield communities, and walking everywhere. 

And then I can’t wait to get home, where the tallest building in all those small towns is three stories, the sky is big and beautiful, and “everybody knows your name.”   

But it’s the buildings I’m thinking about today, the ones that hold place of pride on corners or stand in groups in the middle of the block, their facades corniced and bracketed. They’re brick and most of them have had windows and doors and purposes replaced over the years. Many of them have been painted in colors more welcoming than the old brick. 

Reinventing Riley is a sweet romance between a rock-and-roll playing pastor and a savvy businesswoman. Their story shouldn’t have anything to do with buildings, and yet it does. When Rye, who’s just sold a business and has absolutely no interest in buying another one, sees the Culp Building in downtown Fallen Soldier, Pennsylvania, it speaks to her. Like all old buildings, it has stories to tell. 

Reluctantly, she listens.   

Excerpt: 

On the plane, Jake talked about the interview. “I think it went well. The church is large and much more progressive than Fallen Soldier. I could actually have a private life there. The youth pastorate is the one that’s open, so I’d work with kids, and I’d love that.” 

The but was silent, but she felt it anyway. “When are you going to North Carolina?” she asked. 

“Not until after the holidays. I’m going down to preach a Sunday in January for Wyatt, and I’ll talk to them while I’m there.  Even if I end up leaving Fallen Soldier, I owe the Little Church in the Woods fulltime until that happens. I wouldn’t leave between Thanksgiving and Christmas in any event.” 

She wished she could tell what he was really thinking, but she couldn’t. There was no vibe between them indicating which way his decision was leaning. Not that those vibes were all that dependable anyway. She used to think she knew what was in Ben’s mind and heart, and she seldom did. They had joked that with bipolar disorder, she was bound to be right at least half the time, but it hadn’t worked out that way.  

They talked about other things then, a movie they wanted to see, the Christmas pageant at church, the food pantry that burst with donations this time of year but was nearly bare by February.  

When they were on the mountain road that led from Altoona to Cooper Lake, Jake said quietly, “It’s a blessing to have choices.” He slowed as light snow began to drift down. “I’ve known people whose pastoral careers were irreversibly changed and occasionally ruined by a single incident that was often not within their control. Or by a decision that didn’t fit into the parameters set forth by a church’s administration even if it was done in faith.” 

They didn’t get back to the lake until after nine o’clock. Although it had been an eventful day and much had been accomplished, Rye was exhausted when she crawled into bed with Hagar against her back.  

Being alone felt good—it was something she’d finessed over the years since Ben’s passing. But it could also be lonely. If Jake went to Chicago, would she change her mind once again about moving there?  

The very thought made her sit up in bed, startling Hagar, who meowed in annoyance and dived under the covers.  

She’d been widowed for six years. She’d been a successful businesswoman for much longer than that. She avoided long-term relationships like the plague she often thought they were. She’d— 

Well, she’d never lied to herself, for starters, and she wasn’t going to start now. She didn’t know exactly what this “thing” with Jake McAlister was, but it was different than anything she’d experienced before. He was different.  

And perhaps she was, too.   

Bio and links: 

Liz Flaherty has spent the past several years enjoying not working a day job, making terrible crafts, and writing stories in which the people aren’t young, brilliant, or even beautiful. She’s decided (and has to re-decide most every day) that the definition of success is having a good time. Along with her husband of lo, these many years, kids, grands, friends, and the occasional cat, she’s doing just that. Find her on Facebook or her blog, Window Over the Sink. A girl just can’t have too many friends!  She can be reached at lizkflaherty@gmail.com or please find her at any of the places listed in Linktree at https://linktr.ee/LizFlaherty?subscribe 

 

LIMITED TIME 99¢ SALE!

By Caroline Clemmons

                     

Moving into Fall brings expectations and refreshes memories of changing leaves, chrysanthemums, cooler weather, family gatherings, and certain foods—what folks call “comfort” foods. I’ll include a couple of recipes later in this newsletter.

Have you ever thrown a coin into a fountain or wishing well and made a wish? If so, did your wish come true? When I was writing this blog, I discovered there are dozens of sites online that sell special wishing well coins (most of them plastic). You can even rent a wishing well for a party. 

Sometimes our wishes come true, but with unexpected complications. That’s what happened to Serena Winter in WINTER’S WISH, now on sale for only 99¢ through Thanksgiving Day.

 

Here’s the description for WINTER’S WISH:

None of the eligible men in the town of Hopeful, Colorado appeals to Serena Winter. Working at the mercantile owned by her aunt and uncle, she meets everyone in town. Her aunt warns her against falling for a prospector as they always leave town in the spring. One full moon, Serena quietly leaves her aunt’s home and drops a coin into the town wishing well. Her wish was she would attract an interesting man. She should have been more careful about wording her wish.

Brent Adams has filed on his claim and brought gold ore with him to the assay office in Hopeful. He fears taking it to an assayer closer to his mine will attract claim jumpers and robbers. He’s immediately charmed by Serena. Now he has a new fear—incurring her anger when she learns the secrets he’s withholding.

When Serena is lost in freezing weather, Brent frantically searches for her. If he can find her in time, can they reconcile their differences and find lasting love?

WINTER’S WISH is a sweet western historical romance available from Amazon in e-boo and print, and is free in Kindle Unlimited.

https://www.amazon.com/Winter-Wish-Caroline-Clemmons-ebook/dp/B088QMXJW2/ 

 

Thank you for encouraging me and for reading my books. Your friendship means the world to me. As Lester Holt says at the end of the evening news, "Stay safe and be kind to each other.” Kindness is powerful!

Just For Your by Abbie Zanders

 

 

No matter how much he wants her, he knows he can't have her.

Just For You

A Cerasino Family Novella #5

by Abbie Zanders

Genre: Sweet, Small Town Contemporary Romance

Gina

With my shiny new master’s degree in hand, I’m ready to break free and take the world by storm. No one understands my desire to flee the comfort and safety of my modest town and large Italian family except him. Viper. The lead guitarist for my favorite band and my number one crush since he first smiled at me backstage years ago.

He’s tatted and pierced in all the right places with a creative soul and a dark energy I can’t get enough of. And now that I’ve gotten to know the man behind the performer, I’m more drawn to him than ever.

But it’s not meant to be. Our crossing of paths is just a temporary thing, and despite my best efforts, he’s determined to keep me solidly in the friend zone.

Gray

When my tour is unexpectedly cut short, I’m not as disappointed as I should be. I’m beyond weary, and worse, I don’t hear the music in my head like I used to. What I need is time away from the craziness. Time to stop being Viper, lead guitarist for Bad Influence, and go back to being Grayson Mitchell. I’m not even sure who that guy is anymore, but if anyone can help me remember him, it’s my twin brother.

When I head to Grant’s for much-needed rest, relaxation, and long overdue bro time, I didn’t expect to find him smitten with a beautiful young doc. Nor did I expect to find myself equally drawn to said gorgeous doc’s younger sister. Gina is … amazing. She’s vibrant and beautiful and so unjaded it makes my dark heart ache. When I’m with her, I hear the music again.

She’s into me, I can see it in her eyes. But no matter how much I want her, I can’t. I won’t. I … shouldn’t.

Just For You is the 5th book in the Cerasino Family Novella series, a short, sweet, mildly suspenseful love story featuring an ebullient heroine ready to take on the world and a jaded hero who already did and has the scars to prove it. No graphic sex or violence. Minimal adult language.

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

**Don't miss the rest of the series!**

Cerasino Family series page on Amazon

Cerasino Family series page on website

**Get the Collection of Books 1-3 for only .99cents until Aug 10th!!**

https://smarturl.it/azrCerasinoSet1

Gina 

 

Grant Mitchell’s twin brother is freaking Viper. 

That was the thought that kept popping into my mind every time I looked at him over the course of the afternoon. 

I’d never been starstruck before. Well, not since my first time backstage when I was thirteen. My uncle Vito was a concert tour promoter, which meant my siblings and I had gotten to get up close and personal with a lot of bands over the years. There were few household names I hadn’t met at one time or another. 

None of them had ever affected me as much as Gray Mitchell. 

Yes, I’d met him before. And, yes, I’d had the same reaction then too. Total deer in headlights. The difference this time was, I wasn’t a pubescent teenager anymore. I was a fully grown, adult woman. And Gray? He was even sexier now than he had been then. More chiseled man. Less droolworthy F-boy. 

He didn’t remember me—that was obvious. And why would he? I was one of thousands—probably hundreds of thousands—of girls who’d stared at him adoringly and fantasized about him while letting his unique, deep, purring voice soak into my soul. There was a reason the band Bad Influence was as popular as it was, and I was looking at him. Lyricist. Lead guitarist. Voice of sin and salvation. 

He looked different from the last time I’d seen him. His body had filled out. His features were sharper and more defined. Back then, he’d had gloss in his streaked hair and guyliner accentuating his gorgeous hazel eyes. He’d been shirtless, his lean, ripped torso covered in tattoos and slicked with sweat. 

My eyes dropped to his chest, where I knew that, beneath that perfectly respectable button-down, both nipples were pierced. 

Is he wearing hoops or bars today? I wondered before setting that thought aside to ponder later in private. 

Instead of skintight leather pants that left nothing to the imagination, he had on faded, well-washed blue jeans, like a normal, regular guy. 

There was absolutely nothing regular about Gray Mitchell. He oozed charisma and sex appeal, no matter what he was wearing. 

My female cousins Valentina, Corina, Lucia, and Ramona were falling all over themselves, and he was treating them like they were the most fascinating creatures on earth. I wasn’t jealous. Not at all. It was an act, an integral part of the consummate performer he was. I would just have to remember that if he ever turned his attention my way. 

I tried not to gawk and focused on other things. I chatted with my brothers’ other halves briefly. They asked how my schoolwork was going, and I, in turn, inquired about their lives. 

Eventually, Gray and my brother Dom started talking music, comparing live bands, and that was when I got pulled into the conversation. Dom and I were the diehard rock fans of the famiglia and had attended a lot of concerts over the years. Now that we were older, the torch had been passed to us as chaperones for the younger generation—something we had both heartily embraced because it gave us a good excuse to keep going. 

I had no problems entering the discussion. I spoke like I knew what I was talking about, because I did. I didn’t say Bad Influence was my favorite live band of all time even though it was. That would sound too much like I was sucking up. I didn’t even rank them in my top three when I was ticking them off on my fingers. Dom, who knew my music preferences as well as he knew his own, didn’t call me out. His smirk told me he knew exactly what I was doing. If Viper—uh, Gray—took offense to the blatant omission, he hid it well. 

Grant took Sofia back to her place at some point, which was disappointing. Sofia was recovering from surgery after a car accident, and I’d been planning to use her as an excuse to not only scoot out of there early, but to also justify my absence for the rest of the day. 

I had a ton of work to do on my final presentation, and I was behind. I was about to graduate with a master’s in graphic design and illustrative arts. My thesis and my final project would be the pièces de resistance to my portfolio. If I nailed it, I would be that much closer to getting a coveted position at Kensington Graphic Creative with the Andrea Collins. If I got that, I could write my own ticket. 

“I need to go too,” I said shortly after Grant and Sofia left. 

Since Sofia’s apartment was off-limits for a couple of hours, I’d have to go to either the library or the graphics lab, where I had a small office. I tried to avoid those places when possible, especially during times when security was at a minimum and there weren’t a lot of other people around, like late nights and weekends. 

“It’s Sunday,” my mother said, shooting me a disapproving look. 

Sundays were for family time, but I’d had about as much of my cousins’ fawning as I could handle. Plus, having my loud, boisterous famiglia around was not conducive to getting my project done. 

I stood to go, then kissed both my parents and my grandparents, resigned to do what I must. I’d be okay as long as I didn’t get too wrapped up in my work and I stayed aware of my surroundings. Plus, I kept my pepper spray close by. “I’ll be at the studio late tonight. Don’t wait up.” 

To my surprise, Gray also pushed back his chair and stood. “I should be going too. Do you mind if I catch a ride?” 

I blinked at him. “A ride?” 

He gave me a hopeful, almost-shy smile. “I came with Grant.” 

I tamped down the thrill that zinged through me. This wasn’t about me as much as it was a silent plea to help him escape. Honestly, I didn’t blame him. My cousins were relentless. However, the thought of sharing such a confined space with Gray sent a wave of something through me. Anticipation? Anxiety? 

What I said was, “Uh, sure.” 

His smile did funny things to my insides.  “Great.” 

I didn’t have to look to know that my cousins were shooting poison-tipped daggers of envy in my direction or that my brothers were setting down their napkins and pushing back their chairs. 

“I can take him,” my brother Dom said with that protective big-brother look in his eye. The same one Nick, Vinnie, Paulie, and my father currently sported. The only male who seemed unconcerned was Nonno. 

“You sit,” Nonno told Dom, waving his hand. “He-a go with Gina.” 

Everyone turned to Nonno. His eyes were glittering, and he was looking directly at me. I heard several sharp intakes of breath and murmured curses in Italian. My nonno was a notorious matchmaker, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Nonno had just matched Gray and me. 

Oh no. 

Abbie Zanders is a USA Today Bestselling Author with more than 65 published romance novels to date. Her stories range from contemporary to paranormal and everything in between. She promises her readers two things: happily ever afters, always, and no cliffhangers, ever.

Born and raised in the mountains of Northeastern Pennsylvania, where she sets most of her stories, she’s known for small town romance featuring golden-hearted alpha heroes and strong, relatable heroines. Besides being an avid reader and writer, she loves animals (especially big dogs), American muscle cars, and 80's hair bands.

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

$10 Amazon

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Romancing the Tropics, an anthology

 

 

Be swept away to enchanting tropical locales in these thirteen love stories filled with sweet romance.

Romancing the Tropics

A Collection of Sweet Romance Stories

with stories by 

Lia Davis, Melody Johnson, Vickey Wollan, Leah Miles, Gloria Ferguson, Sara J. Walker, Laura E. Salas, Kelle Z. Riley, Maggie FitzRoy, V.L. Czerny, L.J. Green, M.J. Gates, Merrie Angel

Be swept away to enchanting tropical locales in these thirteen love stories filled with sweet romance. Travel from 1904 to the present as couples find their happily ever after in romantic locales like Miami, the Caribbean, and a romantic Island Kingdom.

Escape for an hour—or a day—to worlds where love, action, adventure, humor, and warmth combine in classic tales of enemies becoming lovers, marriages of convenience turning into more, and second chances proving it’s never too late for love.

Here’s what inside:

Spellbound in the Caribbean by Lia Davis. Freelance artist and witch, Kiera is sent to a remote tropical island by her coven to investigate a supernatural murder and discovers the power of love.

Spelled for Survivor by Melody Johnson. With a fifty-thousand-dollar grand prize on the line, the final two contestants of a reality survival TV show must battle their hearts as well as the elements when they discover that the magic between them might be more valuable than anything money could buy.

The Widow’s Dilemma in Cuba by L.J. Green. 1904. A widow ventures to the tropical paradise of Cuba for a vacation with her niece. Reunited with a former friend of her husband’s, her heart gets involved. Will she get a second chance at love?

The Florida Keys by V.L Czerny. 1908. On an adventure to tropical Florida, blindly confident Elsie oversteps thresholds—exposing answers to the unsolved riddles of her heart.

Secret Island by Maggie FitzRoy. 1924. A spunky gal reporter falls for a mysterious bootlegger while chasing a story on a dangerous island.

The Past and the Present Collide in Paradise by Sara Walker. 1979. A couple gets their second chance at happiness in the ash of a volcano on the Isle of Barbados.

The Poet and The Predictor by Merrie Angel. 1996. Related to royalty, poet Jessica Spencer decides to break society’s rules, save the world, and find adventure on the island of Bonaire with a mysterious indigenous scientist, Roman.

The Cowboy and the Island Girl by Gloria Ferguson. Will a modern-day cowboy’s offer to buy an Aruban girl’s tour business end with a love merger instead?

Ocean Tides and Love Vibes by Laura E. Salas. He goes to work on a yacht hoping to escape his failures, only to find himself living in close quarters with the love of his life, the one whose heart he foolishly broke ten years ago.

A Donkey Named Cleo by M.J. Gates. A woman starts a second career as a veterinarian in the Virgin Islands where a donkey helps her find herself and love.

Baubles in Bermuda by Vickey Wollan. An adventurous treasure hunter in Bermuda finds more than a handful of jewels.

Love in the Conch Republic, by Leah Miles. In the Conch Republic, a long-lost son returns for his legacy and ends up with the gift of love.

The Prince Takes a Bride By Kelle Z Riley. A modern-day marriage of convenience on a romantic Island Kingdom leads to love.

Proceeds benefit the First Coast Romance Writers, an independent non-profit organization, which helps writers hone their craft and expand their knowledge of the publishing industry.

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Smashwords * Books2Read * Bookbub * Goodreads

Spelled for Survivor 

By: Melody Johnson 

Coating her fingers in maple syrup and allowing a swarm of fire ants to engulf her left hand didn’t even make the top ten stupid stunts that Stevie Dynamite had performed on camera. She’d posed with a lion for the cover of Gem Magazine, swapped spit with 130 contestants on The Kiss is Right, and been bungee pushed—she certainly hadn’t jumped that time—off the Bloukrans Bridge for The Rock Life Foundation. Ah, the good ol’ days before her accident, when standing even two feet off the ground didn’t make her panic. At least that one had been for charity. This latest gig, competing on Castaway Casanova, wouldn’t benefit anyone except her father’s ego. 

If the excruciating venom of a few dozen fire ants didn’t absolve her imagined sins from the Great Panty Debate, nothing would.  

Everything you do spells disaster.  

Stevie buried the thought before it took root again, but after twenty-five years, even a blatant lie could begin to sound true.  

Her co-star and fellow final castaway, Parker Peters, openly gaped off camera, alternately at her standing on the beach before him, the ants biting her outstretched hand, and their director, Richie Lin, vehemently pointing at him to get on camera. Parker hadn’t been warned about the fire ants because he wouldn’t have agreed to it, and his raw reactions to Stevie’s “mishaps” had become fan favorite moments of the show. Her misery and his sarcasm were memes on every social channel. The fiercer their on-screen rivalry, the more viral their popularity. Ratings skyrocketed. Viewership soared. And the money poured in.  

Supposedly. Stevie hadn’t seen a dime of it, but her father, Billy Dynamite, the Grammy-winning front man for Tar, was placated. For now. At least someone in the Dynamite family would profit from her efforts.  

And her efforts had been nothing short of herculean, if she said so herself. 

They were shooting Castaway Casanova on Blue Island, and like most tropical Pacific islands, its beaches were paradise incarnate—all sunny skies and smooth sand, foamy surf and crashing waves, salty breezes and coconut-bearing palm trees. Until the sun burns and bug bites and gritty everything had ruined the fantasy. Sand wedged into food and water, rubbed between every crevice, stung every scrape, and after four long weeks of filming, there were countless scrapes to sting. Her lips had split on episode three. Her knuckles had cracked on episode seven. And now, shooting episode nine, her chapped left hand was fire ant food. 

Stevie gritted her teeth against the pain. This time tomorrow, Castaway Casanova would finally be a wrap, and she could put the entire sand-scraped, bug-bitten, sun-stinging experience in her rearview. 

Parker cleared his throat. Are you okay? He mouthed, still off camera. 

Well, maybe not the entire experience. 

Stevie sucked in her bottom lip, their pre-arranged code that she was acting. Even if the ants weren’t. 

Parker shook his head, unconvinced. 

If he hesitates much longer, we’ll miss the shot. 

Clearly, the crew shared Stevie’s concerns, because one of the grips pushed Parker into motion. He stumbled forward and fell to his knees in the sand before Stevie, on camera. Still openly gaping. 

Richie Lin grinned, all teeth.     

Parker stood and lifted his hands, looking beautifully baffled. If only the sizzle of his gorgeous green eyes could heat more than just her blood, she might not have had to eat all those uncooked crabs three episodes ago. 

“Are they what I think they are?” he asked, horrified. 

“If you think they’re fire ants, then yes!” Stevie fought to keep her face composed, so that the tears had a good canvas to flow down. 

Parker blinked several times. Not the most loquacious response, but at least he managed not to look off camera. They were supposed to be marooned on Blue Island alone, after all, and she did not want to suffer a second take just because Parker got caught raising his eyebrows at a sound tech. Again.  

Richie circled a finger at her to keep it going. 

Stevie delivered her lines in her best I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing voice. “The night air was cool for once, so I opened the tent flap to let in the breeze! I didn’t think it would let in anything else!”  

“Buck up, Buttercup,” Parker muttered, still appalled but sharp enough to recover and deliver the zing everyone expected. “And maybe think next time.” 

Richie did a little jig, waited another moment to capture Stevie’s signature squeal of disappointment—instead of the howl of agony building in her throat—and shouted, “Cut!” 

Someone whooped. 

Someone else clapped. 

Stevie gulped in a deep, trembling breath. A calm-seeking breath. The kind of breath she might take while turning herself into a pretzel during goat yoga. Because if she started freaking out, she might not be able to stop. “Who has the hose?” 

Parker tore his black tank top over his head—ah, those leading-man muscles—and began batting the ants from her arm. Which, of course, only incited the majority of the ants to bite harder, but the sentiment was touching. 

“Some help here!” he snapped over the whooping and clapping. 

“Coming!” Stevie’s underpaid agent/assistant/publicist/best friend, Claire Ann, elbowed through the crew, hose in hand. Stevie held out her arm, and Claire Ann blasted the ants with nearly enough spray pressure to remove a layer of skin along with the insects. 

Richie clapped Parker on the shoulder. “Another clutch one-liner. You’re gold, man. Solid gold.” 

Parker’s grip on his shirt tightened to a white knuckled fist. “Thanks.” 

“And you, Stevie girl.” He kissed his fingertips. “Pure dynamite.” 

Once the ants were cleared, Dr. Kimber stepped up beside Claire Ann. She examined Stevie’s arm, applied a topical anesthetic, wrapped the entire mess in some loose gauze, and warned her that the welts would probably worsen to pus-filled blisters before getting better. 

Richie leaned in. “You think they might blister by tomorrow’s season finale?” he asked, clearly hopeful. 

Dr. Kimber pushed a pair of turquoise glasses up her nose. “It’s possible,” she confirmed and handed Stevie a sleeve of Benadryl tablets “to get her through the worst of it.” 

Parker’s cheeks turned an interesting shade of purple under his stubble.  

Sure enough, as soon as the crew left to meet them on the summit of Mt. Ojos de Mar for tomorrow’s grand prize challenge, and they were alone for real, Parker lit into her. “What the hell, Stevie! Fire ants? Really? And I thought swimming with sharks was crossing the line.” 

“I was safely caged the entire time.” Stevie tried not to shiver at the memory.  

“You had nightmares for days after that shoot!”  

She still did. Which was exactly the point, according to her father. Penance wasn’t supposed to be easy. “I survived.” 

“I nearly didn’t just watching you,” Parker grumbled, stuffing a water bottle into the side pocket of his pack.  

Surviving kinda sucks, Stevie thought, fingering the keloid scar on her right forearm. She’d physically survived her accident and mentally survived the online humiliation afterward. Funny that after all she’d survived, the atonement was the thing killing her. 

Parker heaved his duffle onto one shoulder. “You ready for this hike?” 

“Yep.” She hauled on her own pack, clipped her mini go-cam onto its strap, and grinned through the pain of her still stinging, and now welt-swollen, left hand. “Let’s move out.” 

Parker eyed the trail before them warily. “Ladies first.” 

Despite the hardships they’d endured on this shoot, Parker managed to trip her heartbeat even without his lopsided, aw-shucks smile. Unlike Stevie, who worked so hard to achieve her alter-ego on camera, Parker drew people to him simply by being himself. His glowing, dewy muscles, unkempt sandy hair, and calm, even-tempered personality combined with his biting wit was magnetic. Even now, with those thick brows furrowed in wary contemplation of the path ahead of them, he was delicious. Just standing and breathing—merely existing!—and Stevie found herself fantasizing about the flexed neck muscle between his ear and collarbone as he turned his head sideways to frown back at her. Oh, the many ways she could put those pouting, salt-chapped lips to good use.  

His effortless charisma would have been infuriating, except that along with their director, producers, the network, and most of America, Stevie was just as charmed. 

The thirteen authors participating in this anthology are members of First Coast Romance Writers (FCRW), and proceeds from this anthology benefit their organization. FCRW is a non-profit that welcomes both published and unpublished authors, as well as any individuals involved in writing and publishing. The chapter is dedicated to promoting excellence in romantic fiction through monthly meetings and workshops in a comfortable forum. They strive to help writers establish careers by providing innovative programs, networking opportunities and pertinent information on effective marketing techniques. Romancing the Tropics is the fourth installment in the group’s anthology series. Learn more about FCRW online at https://www.firstcoastromancewriters.com 

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