Sarah's Second Chance, the new book I've been working on, is a romantic mystery.
Here's the premise:
Sarah’s husband dies mysteriously. Was it murder or suicide? She searches for answers while raising her young son alone in Siletz Bay.
To make ends meet, she's working in a donut shop where she encounters Greyson. He's a hot, black PI with a prosthetic leg. A friendship blossoms with potential for more. Ultimately, he helps her find answers and hope.
Here's an excerpt:
Milo napped and my eyes glazed over as I looked out my living room window. I could see sail boats lining the cloudy, mist-filled harbor off in the distance.
Now home, this place seemed like a world away from Portland, where Brandon and I had met, although it was just a two hour drive away. There was nothing urban or city like about Siletz Bay. Sometimes it felt too small. But whenever I mentally entertained the idea of leaving, it was like my feet were stuck in the sand.
I sat at the kitchen table and opened an old journal, jotted the date at the top and began to write: It’s been twelve months, two weeks, one day and three hours since the moment my life changed forever.
Last year I stood in a cold church with a crinkled piece of paper in my shaking hand. I read a line from a poem I’d written. Love is like a tulip. It’s beautiful and blooming in spring. But it’s just a memory by summer.
I put the pen down and flipped to the first pages of the journal. I discovered a wedding photo I’d stuck in there. In it, Brandon was holding me in front of the Eiffel Tower. The one in Vegas, not Paris. Memories from the start of our lives together began to flood me.
Sarah’s husband dies mysteriously. Was it murder or suicide? She searches for answers while raising her young son alone in Siletz Bay.
To make ends meet, she's working in a donut shop where she encounters Greyson. He's a hot, black PI with a prosthetic leg. A friendship blossoms with potential for more. Ultimately, he helps her find answers and hope.
Here's an excerpt:
Milo napped and my eyes glazed over as I looked out my living room window. I could see sail boats lining the cloudy, mist-filled harbor off in the distance.
Now home, this place seemed like a world away from Portland, where Brandon and I had met, although it was just a two hour drive away. There was nothing urban or city like about Siletz Bay. Sometimes it felt too small. But whenever I mentally entertained the idea of leaving, it was like my feet were stuck in the sand.
I sat at the kitchen table and opened an old journal, jotted the date at the top and began to write: It’s been twelve months, two weeks, one day and three hours since the moment my life changed forever.
Last year I stood in a cold church with a crinkled piece of paper in my shaking hand. I read a line from a poem I’d written. Love is like a tulip. It’s beautiful and blooming in spring. But it’s just a memory by summer.
I put the pen down and flipped to the first pages of the journal. I discovered a wedding photo I’d stuck in there. In it, Brandon was holding me in front of the Eiffel Tower. The one in Vegas, not Paris. Memories from the start of our lives together began to flood me.
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