Acknowledgments

“These times of woe afford no time to woo.” I think that goes double for times of pestilence — I’m sure Shakespeare and Sir Paris would agree. Either way, it was hard to write this book because I was so homesick for a city not even four hours away and pining for human interaction that I couldn’t have during a pandemic. This manifested in strange ways with Darcy and Tomás. So much longing…even when they were in the same space. Goodness. It was intense. I hope y’all enjoyed it!

While writing this, I opened a private writer’s group for the #20kin5Days crew called Wordmakers. We’ve been breaking the place in, and I’m so lucky and happy to have them as part of my journey in this here writing life. So shout-out to my coven of writers who always make it easier to get shit done, and the group chat, now lovingly dubbed LLC Twitter, who always motivate me to push beyond my comfort zone.

Thanks so much for reading and always being excited for my stories!

EXCERPT

A Taste of Her Own Medicine

A Small Town Romance

Chapter One

Sonja

The strip of shops, eateries, and galleries in The Village of West Greenville were dark and quiet when I pulled my Subaru into the parking lot a few blocks away from The CoWorking Spot. In the last few years, this part of town had experienced some growth with the arrival of a few restaurants and specialty shops. But that was just a handful of businesses, most of which closed at or around six o’clock, leaving the streets quiet on a late summer evening. I took advantage of this moment of quiet. Closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to settle the nervous butterflies in my stomach.

About a month ago, I allowed myself to be convinced to sign up for a six-week entrepreneurship course— something I’d regretted since the day the payment cleared.

What makes me think I can run my own business?

The only thing I’d managed in the last ten years was a household, and occasionally, the front desk at my ex-husband’s real estate offices. Those skills didn’t necessarily translate into the sort of hustle one needed to be an entrepreneur. But the night I signed up, my sisters Birdie and Agostina, as well as my friend Estelle, made it seem like a great idea to start a business with the skincare products I made from the herbs and medicinal flowers in my garden. And I agreed. Or maybe the gallon of wine I drank that night agreed because now that I was sitting in my car with my brand new laptop, in my brand new laptop bag, I wondered if I’d temporarily lost my mind.

The Bluetooth in my car announced that I had an incoming call from Estelle Murphy.

“Hello?”