And so what if we’re not engaged. We’re just not engaged yet. I told you when I hardly knew him that I was going to marry Evan Sharp. And I guarantee you that it will happen.
Just you wait and see.
SPECIAL PREVIEW: HEART’S EASE SERIES
Nestled along the shore of Newfoundland is Heart’s Ease. A small town big on romance. While Victoria’s Forever Geek trilogy is a sweet story where all the steamy bits stay under wraps, consider yourself warned. There’s some serious heat in Heart’s Ease. Check out this excerpt from Against Her Rules, Book 1 in the Heart’s Ease series.
——
The light on the GPS indicated he had arrived at his destination. But Campbell Scott found himself perched near the edge of a cliff with nothing around him but short, stumpy trees that looked like they’d battled to the death with the wind and were just refusing to die gracefully. This was not the best start to his week. He’d spent the better part of two hours flying above St. John’s while the pilot waited for the all-clear to land in the thickest fog Cam had ever seen. It made the fog of London seem like a fine mist.
He’d programmed the location of the bed and breakfast into his GPS and set off, only to find himself lost in a series of small communities that began with the word Heart. Heart’s Delight. Heart’s Content. Heart’s Desire. But where was Heart’s Ease? And where was the damned bed and breakfast? This was the fifth time he’d programmed in the location, and the fifth desolate location the unit had directed him to.
He’d tried calling the place to find out where in the hell it was but he had yet to find any decent cell service. He picked up his iPhone and was shocked to see one weak bar on display. It was worth a try.
The ring crackled, like he was dialing 1982, but at least it was ringing.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end was older than he expected. “Hello. Is this the Heart’s Ease Inn?”
“Oh my. Are you Scottish?” the voice trilled.
“Aye. Have I rung the inn?”
“I’m planning a trip to Scotland. Where abouts are you from?”
“Glasgow. Excuse me but...”
“Oh, a Glaswegian, are you? I was hoping for Edinburgh. I don’t have any plans to go to Glasgow myself. Heard it’s a bit of a rough spot.”
Sweet lord. Even in this godforsaken small corner of the globe people had impressions of Glasgow. “Pardon me, madam, but I’m looking for the Heart’s Ease Inn.”
“Oh yes. This is it. Looking to book a room are you? It’s pretty pricy, you know.”
“I have a room booked. I just can’t seem to find the place.” He was also beginning to wonder if he wanted to if he was going to have to deal with this woman for the duration.
“You didn’t go to Little Heart’s Ease, did you? That’s on the other side of the bay, my son, and you’ll have a good couple of hours drive to get here if that’s the case.”
The woman at the car rental kiosk had warned him of that; at least he knew he wasn’t that far off the mark.
“No, I’m pretty sure I’m nearby. I just can’t find the bloody place.”
“Watch your language, boy. Now where are you then?”
It was just his luck to get a schoolmarm on the line.
“I have no idea. I’m in a field.”
“What field?”
“I don’t know. It’s green. There’s grass and trees.”
“Now don’t go gettin’ snippy. Of course there’s grass and trees. Now, what else?”
Campbell looked around. “I can see water, and...oh, it’s just a field. No fence. No building. No cows. Sheep. Nothing. Just a great big grassy area with some gnarled trees.”
“Oh, that could be a couple of spots. Now we’re getting somewhere.” He could swear she was cackling with glee. “Now, what’s the last sign you saw?”
That Campbell could answer, because he still couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d even taken a picture and texted it to his sister with a terse, “Where the hell have you sent me?”
“It said Worms. Ice. Cold Beer,” Cam told the woman.
“Excellent. We’re getting somewhere now,” the woman intoned. “Was it one of them neon magnetic signs, or was it more homemade?”
“It was attached to a derelict gas station. And it was written on cardboard.”
“Oh, sure you’ve gone too far.” The woman proceeded to give him what turned out to be surprisingly good directions, and in under fifteen minutes he was driving along a narrow, pothole ridden road that wound itself around a steep cliff face. At the end of the road, past the closed fish plant, and a long yellow wharf with several small fishing boats tied up to it, loomed a hill with a sprawling yellow Victorian-style mansion with red trim atop it.
It was a three-storey building, except for the centre, which could have housed another few rooms. If this were his house, it’s where he would build his studio. It really was spectacular, even in the cold drizzle. He marveled over how the clapboard could keep such a rich colour. The salt in the air should have dulled it, yet it looked as if it were freshly painted. Several large, red burning bushes dotted the front grounds.
As he pulled up the gravel driveway he began to see why the publishers had decided to send him here. If there was any place to get inspired, this was it.
At first glance you’d think this was a desolate place. Its isolation and the sparse landscape made you think of loneliness. But then subtle things stood out. The blue jays fighting over seeds in a feeder shaped like the sun. Crisp white sheets flapping in the air, despite the mist, the clothesline dancing in the wind. Even the way all the tips of the small juniper trees pointed in the same direction. Looking toward the water, the view was breathtaking. White caps formed on the waves, and still he could see gulls riding them out with ease, as if this was their own personal surfer's nirvana.
Shutting off the engine, he stepped out and took a deep breath. The wet, cool air filled his lungs. He smiled. This might be a good project after all.
Cam slung his laptop bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. It opened before he put his hand to the knob and he was greeted by a short, white haired woman who looked to be nothing but tanned, wrinkled skin and bones.
“Scotsman?” she asked, a smile of pure joy on her face. She wasn’t a crone at all. More like a lovable grandmother.
“Ah, you’re my saviour then,” he said. “Thank you for the directions.” He bowed.
“Now, you’re a fine-looking young man. Are ye married?”
“Excuse me?” He chuckled.
“Big, tall, handsome feller like yourself. You must have a wife.”
Was this methuselan woman hitting on him?
“Aunt Ida,” a chiding voice called. “If you’re going to work here you need to remember the first rule: no grilling the guests.”
A small, well-manicured hand pulled the door wider, revealing an elegant arm, attached to the most beautiful creature Cam had ever seen—and he’d seen plenty of delicious women in his day.
Long, wavy brown hair created a mahogany frame for deep green eyes and plump, tempting red lips. She was almost as short as the old woman, with curves in all the right places. Those curves were carefully covered in a tight ivory wool sweater and jeans. The only hint of imperfection was a small streak of dirt down one full, lush breast. It looked like potting soil, and he was tempted to brush it away, if for no other reason than to say he’d had the chance to touch such perfection.
“Good afternoon,” she said, extending her hand. It disappeared in his. Never before had he noticed how massive and inelegant his own hands were. “I’m Elsie Walsh. Please forgive my Aunt’s rudeness. She’s in training.” She shot a glare at the older woman. “Auntie, can you make sure there’s fresh coffee brewed. One sugar, and a drop of Laphroaig.”
How did she know that was how he liked his coffee? As if reading his mind, she gave a playful smile that sent bolts of lightning down his spine. And elsewhere.
“It’s my job to ensure y
ou feel at home here. You’d be surprised what I’ve learned about you in preparation for your arrival. Whoever booked your stay knows a fair bit about you.”
“My sister,” he said quickly. It seemed important that she know that no random woman knew his special preferences. The ones outside the bedroom, at least.
She simply smiled. A marvelous, beautiful, sensuous smile. “Welcome to Heart’s Ease Inn, Mr. Scott.” And she laughed. “I’m sorry. It just hit me. You’re Scottish.”
What was it about these people and his nationality? “Yes, I see the humour,” he said, not getting the joke at all.
She laughed harder. “You’re Scottish and your last name is Scott.”
The woman was beautiful. And a little deranged. Just how he liked them.
ALSO BY VICTORIA BARBOUR
HEART’S EASE SERIES
Now Available
(Click the titles to go directly to Amazon.com)
Against Her Rules (Book 1)
Hard as Ice (Book 2)
Play Me (Book 3)
21st Century Rake (Book 4)
FOREVER GEEK TRILOGY
Coming Soon
Geek Groom (Book 2)
Geek Dad (Book 3)
Now Available
Geek God (Book 1)
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About the Author
Victoria lives on the island of Newfoundland, and is fiercely proud of her home. She can imagine no better setting for her works, and hopes that her readers will one day come to witness Newfoundland and Labrador's rustic beauty for themselves.
She was born in St. John's, and raised above her family's fish and chips restaurant. She has travelled and lived in other parts of Canada, but chose to make her home where her heart has long resided. Victoria has a degree in History from Memorial University of Newfoundland, with a minor in Newfoundland Studies. The only thing that stands between her and a Master's degree in History from Simon Fraser University in British Columbia is her thesis. She has a background in broadcast journalism, advertising, and marketing. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, the Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada and the Writers' Alliance of Newfoundland and Labrador.
Victoria counts herself lucky to be surrounded by an incredibly supportive family, and thanks her husband daily for his unerring faith in her, and for being a wonderful father to their young son.
Read more at Victoria Barbour’s site.
Geek God (Forever Geek Trilogy Book 1) Page 7