My story, MY MATCHMAKER PUPPY, is part of this collection, so here’s a taste of it.
Saturday morning after our first week arrived sunny and cold. I was just about to take Juliette for a walk when my phone blared. Ben’s number ran across the screen.
“I’m going nuts,” he said as a greeting. “Are you free for an emergency consult?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Dart’s not listening to anything I’m telling him this morning. He won’t go out, follow any commands and he’s been howling since I woke up. I’ve tried everything. Chicken, diversion. Praise. Nothing is working. I’m just about at my wit’s end and it’s not even ten o’clock.”
I told him to meet me at my office, asap.
To say he looked stressed when I let them both through the front door was an understatement.
“Thank you so much for seeing us.” Ben handed the leash to my outstretched hand.
The dog stared up at me, his gaze enraptured and focused on my face. He shot a quick side eye to Ben, then settled back on me. I gave him a sit command and he plopped down on his butt, his gaze never wavering. I pulled a small piece of chicken from my training fanny pack and gave it to him as a reward.
“That’s the first time he’s listened all morning.” The strain in Ben’s voice was unmistakable. “I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong. I’ve done everything, including what you just did, to no avail. It’s like he’ll only listen to you.”
To put that theory to a test I handed Ben a treat and then asked him to give the dog a command.
Dart complied after first zeroing in on my face.
“Well, geez,” Ben said. “I swear, he didn’t do that before. Why did he decide to, now?”
I had no idea, but dogs, like humans, could be fickle, temperamental, and just plain ornery at times.
“Let’s experiment,” I said, “I was just about to take Juliette for her morning walk when you called. Join us and we can see if he gives you any more problems.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We bundled back up against the cold of the day and then set off to the nearby park. D’Artagnan was 50 shades of happy dog when he realized Juliette was going to walk with him.
“Again, I’m sorry to have bothered you on a Saturday,” Ben said as we rounded onto the street, our dogs walking in perfect harmony despite the difference in their sizes. “I’m sure you have a million things to do.”
I felt a little pathetic telling him I had nothing pressing except for monthly business reports and payroll to occupy my weekend.
“I didn’t take you away from anything…or anyone…important, did I? Breakfast with a…friend? Or something?” he asked.
From the slightly nervous warble in his voice to the way he kept sneaking glances at me I wondered at the meaning behind the questions. It was almost as if he was asking because he was…interested.
In me.
Get your copy today, kids! It’s a great collection of romances!
All the proceeds go toward 4 Paws for Ability, a non-for-profit organization matching service dogs with Veterans.
Wednesday Coffee, and Books presents: Love, Lattes, & Holiday Tales a collection of brand new unique short stories for this festive season. Snuggle up with some sweet and spicy romance from multi-award-winning authors, including New York Times and USA Today Bestselling.
These amazing multi-genre holiday stories featuring Hounds & Grounds and a loving pet will leave you believing in love and a happily ever after.
Featuring authors:
CJ Warrant & Rochelle Bradley CJ Barlowe Rochelle K Bradley Sharon Hamilton NYT & USAT Bestselling Phoebe Alexander USAT Bestselling LC Taylor USAT Bestselling Miranda Lynn USAT Bestselling Faith Alexander C.J. Baty Sutton Bishop Cynthia Carver C. J. Corbin Aliya DalRae Hope Daniels Miski Harris Sara Hurst Juliette Hyland Peggy Jaeger Margaret Kay Tessa McFionn Sharon Michalove Charli Rahe AJ Renee Tori Ross Aurelia Yates
My story, MY MATCHMAKER PUPPY deals with a dog trainer and harried dog sitter who just can’t get his dog to do what he wants.
Dog Trainer Celia Mills has better relationships with the dogs in her life than the men. She’s got a track record of dating self-centered, narcissistic, alphaholes and her therapist thinks it’s because she’s got a fix’em complex. Celia’s methods for changing behavior works with errant dogs, so why shouldn’t it with men?
Is it any wonder she’s still single?
When new client Ben Masters hires her to train his aunt’s dog, Celia’s lust-ometer goes into hyperdrive. But there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him that needs fixing.
Could that be a sign she’s finally found her for-a-lifetime guy?
So, In honor of CHRISTMAS IN JULY, I have 2 holiday romance books releasing for the 2024 holiday season. The first is the DICKENS HOLIDAY ROMANCE, A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS, which comes out on 11.11.24. I’ve talked a bit about that one already, so….
The second is a short story/novella in an anthology titled LOVE, LATTES and HOLIDAY TALES. The cool thing about this anthology is that the profits all go towards the charity 4 Paws for Ability, a non-profit organization that matches service dogs with Veterans. How fabulous is that?? The book is available for preorder and is just 99 cents – that’s 25 authors/25 stories for just 99 cents. Come on, kids – what a bargain that is!!!
My story is about a dog trainer and one of her clients…
Here’s a little bit:
Talk about performance pressure.
Ben pointed to my table. We sat, while he held fast to his dog’s leash just in case he decided to bolt again.
He needn’t have worried. D’Artagnan (and can we just establish how cute that name is ) plopped down between my chair and Juliette’s, his mouth pulled into an enraptured smile as he continued to stare at my little darling.
And that little darling was staring right back, her doggie coquette on full blast.
Ben took a quick look at his dog, seemed satisfied all was well, then turned his attention to me.
“So,” I said. “You’re in the market for a dog trainer.”
He grinned and nodded. “I am, but Dart isn’t my dog.”
That surprised me.
“He belongs to my aunt, who, recently, fell and broke her hip. She’s in a rehab facility for a few months, recouping.”
“I’m sorry.”
He waved a hand at me. “She’s strong and determined, so she’ll be fine. The issue is when she comes home there’s no way she can manage Dart in his present state. He pulls like crazy when you walk him, he’s easily distracted, and I’m not sure she’s going to be able to safely take care of him by herself. He needs to be trained, something she never bothered with.”
“Do you know how old he is?”
“Four. Is that too old for him to learn?”
“Of course not.”
“Even though he still acts like that’s months and not years? He’s a full-on puppy. He doesn’t know his boundaries and he doesn’t listen to commands.”
I refrained from saying he listened to me just fine when I told him to sit.
Here’s the cover for the anthology and my book cover.
So my tease today is a real tease. I’m involved in a Christmas anthology this year to benefit an animal organization. 15+ authors who’ll be doing little novella/shortstories all revolving around a coffee shop called HOUNDS AND GROUNDS. Think Dunkin Donuts but with dogs allowed.
But I can’t share the book’s main cover with you, or tell you the name of my story or what my bookcover looks like. NOt yet.
See? Real tease today. I can show you the coming soon cover and provide the preorder link, though, lol. So…
All the proceeds go toward 4 Paws for Ability, a non-for-profit organization matching service dogs with Veterans.
Wednesday, Coffee, & Books presents: Love, Lattes, & Holiday Tales a collection of brand new unique short stories for this festive season. Snuggle up with some sweet and spicy romance from multi-award-winning authors, including New York Times and USA Today Bestselling.
These amazing multi-genre holiday stories featuring Hounds & Grounds and a loving pet will leave you believing in love and a happily ever after.
Featuring authors:
CJ Warrant & Rochelle Bradley CJ Barlowe Rochelle K Bradley Sharon Hamilton NYT & USAT Bestselling Phoebe Alexander USAT Bestselling Monica DeSimone USAT Bestselling Marie Hall USAT Bestselling LC Taylor USAT Bestselling Miranda Lynn USAT Bestselling Faith Alexander C.J. Baty Sutton Bishop Cynthia Carver C. J. Corbin Aliya DalRae Hope Daniels Anna Hague Miski Harris Sara Hurst Juliette Hyland Peggy Jaeger (THAT’S ME!!! LOL) Margaret Kay Tessa McFionn Sharon Michalove Charli Rahe AJ Renee Tori Ross Aurelia Yates
After winning millions in a national lottery, local librarian Daisy Morgan sets out to revitalize the infamous Crowe’s Nest Tavern. After saving the historic inn from the auction block, Daisy begins a major renovation only to discover some hidden secrets – and a few unearthly spirits – tied to the tavern’s history.
Writer Keegan Warren arrives to do a story on the tavern weeks before the grand re-opening. Keegan’s got a few secrets of his own about why he wanted the assignment – secrets that unfold no matter how diligently he tries to keep them hidden. With Daisy’s help, he unearths a centuries old murder tied to his family’s past.
As they investigate, their mutual attraction grows. But will their budding relationship suffer when the truth is discovered?
Daisy slid the phone back into her purse and took a tour around the taproom. Natural light bathed the room through the obscured and etched glass windows covering the front two walls. She’d paid a small fortune to replicate them, forking over extra to temper them in order to protect against the strong bay winds that battered the building every day of the year.
The Crowe’s Nest Tavern stood at the sharpest jut of land on Last Light Point and had weathered several hundred years of New England storms and tempests, dozens of owners, and a history that dated from before the birth of the nation. Daisy wasn’t about to let that history go the way of the dinosaur on her watch.
Her critical eye for detail roamed around the room taking in all the updates done, while keeping the original feel of the old tavern alive.
The establishment had been up for auction for a year, the previous owner dying without ever making provisions for its sale. Daisy, as head of the historical society, had tried valiantly to get it made a protected historical site. The fact the structure had stood for over three hundred years should have qualified it outright, but her attempts fell on deaf legislative ears. The bank, who owned the mortgage, had put it up for sale. When no buyer came forth, they placed it on the auction block. Daisy was terrified it was going to be sold and subsequently knocked down. When an outside developer expressed interest in the property and the rest of the boardwalk to build upscale condos, Daisy had gone into fight mode to block his every attempt.
Just when it looked like her struggle would prove futile, several prayers and one stroke of heaven-sent luck had come her way and she’d been able to purchase the building and, with it, the leases for the remaining shops on the boardwalk.
Unexpectedly flush with disposable cash, Daisy spared no expense to bring the tavern back to its long-ago beauty.
If you could call its twisted history beautiful, she thought. She supposed the sight where pirates and thieves hung out and where they were, subsequently, hung then placed into the dreaded gibbet and left to rot for all the citizenry to gawk over, could be classified as historically significant, if not pretty.
Oh, she wished she could have seen it in its heyday. Filled to the rafters with brigands and soldiers and sailors all stopping for a pint and some grub to fill their bellies. Buxom serving girls bustling about, filling tankards, listening to tall tales of sea monsters and hidden treasure; of mermaids and sirens and Davy Jones’ Locker.
Daisy sighed, her imagination running rampant as it always did when she thought of the tavern’s history. Her gaze traveled to the mirror Cooper’s crew had discovered in the basement when they’d begun shoring up the ancient walls. Covered with a black tarp and decades of dust, they’d uncovered it and immediately called her.
“It’s wicked old,” Cooper said as he accompanied her to the tavern’s underground level. “And worth a fortune, I’m thinking. That frame’s real gold. I’d bet the house on it.”
Daisy stooped to inspect the mirror. Cooper’s eye was good, because the frame was genuine gold and decorated with a filigree pattern on all four sides. About five feet wide and three-quarters of that in width, the glass was murky with age and dust. She could barely make out her reflection.
“I bet it hung on the wall behind the bar,” she mused. “Take it upstairs and put it in my office. I’ll call Mrs. Cashman over at the antiques store to come over and look at it. She should know how to clean it, too, to bring it back to life.”
“What are you planning to do with it?” Cooper asked.
“Put it where I’m sure it used to hang: back up behind the bar.”
Cooper cupped his neck and shook his head. “It weighs a ton, kid. Mounting and securing it’s gonna be a nightmare.”
“I’m sure you’ll do your best.” She swiped at the dust collecting on her jeans and stood. A momentary wave of vertigo over took her, making her sway. Cooper’s hand shot out in an instant to clasp her upper arms right before she dropped to the floor.
“Easy,” he said. “You okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.” She swiped at the sweat suddenly covering her brow. “I missed breakfast,” she lied, shaking her head of the subtle hum ringing through it. She hadn’t felt this sensation in too many years to remember. Not since…she clucked her tongue and shoved the memory down. “I’ll go call the antique shop.”
Now, as she stood in front of the cleaned and polished mirror, the glass just slightly milky from age, she smiled. And, now that she knew what it really was, she could admit a small amount of anxiety about hanging it behind the bar. So far, none of the workmen or staff had commented on anything…strange, about the piece. And thank goodness for that. That it looked perfect hanging there was a minor consolation.
writes contemporary romances and romcoms about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.
Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, Peggy brings all aspects of life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness, and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she has created the families she wanted as that lonely child.
As a lifelong diarist, she caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit her at peggyjaeger.com where she blogs daily about life, writing, and stuff that makes her go “What??!”
Fall, 1941 Grace O’Hearn has lived in Last Light Point since long before the ’29 stock market crash took so much from so many. Ten years later, things are looking up. When Grace’s father is murdered, Grace becomes the sole owner of the Crowe’s Nest Tavern–an establishment that dates back centuries, and comes with its own resident ghosts.
FBI agent, Max Stewart, is sent to Last Light Point to investigate racketeering and police corruption. Could it be connected to man’s murder? When he first meets Grace, he’s convinced she’s hiding something. Yet, her keen insight about the town, and everyone in it, may be the best lead he has.
Can they work together to bring down the guilty? Or, will an attraction neither of them wants keep getting in the way?
The Crowe’s Nest Tavern, Last Light Point
Early Autumn, 1941
“Simon, I can see you,” Grace said softly. “There’s no sense hiding in the corner of the mirror behind the cheap whiskey.”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” the scrappy pirate ghost explained. “You’ve got enough to deal with without the likes of me pestering you.”
Grace O’Hearn braced her hands against the edge of the bar and sighed deeply, wearily, the emotional release shaking the half dozen glasses drying on the stained pewter countertop.
“You’re never a bother, Simon.” When she looked up, Simon’s visage slid to the middle of the mirror, his slumped shoulders and worn clothes taking up a good portion of the space.
“I see you were mopping the floor again, Miss.”
“This worn linoleum has seen better days,” she confirmed. “My uncle put it down in the early twenties, when he’d turned the tavern into a speakeasy during prohibition.”
“Aye, Miss. I remember it well. Cursed a blue streak he did, putting the floor down.”
“He said it was so his patrons could dance,” she recalled. “Some days, I’m half tempted to rip it up and refinish the old floorboards hidden beneath. Even then, I don’t think it would help with… with…”
Simon’s usually gruff voice softened. “Take it from someone who swabbed his shipmate’s blood from the deck more times than I care to recall, the stain goes away, but the memory remains.”
“That’s it, exactly,” she agreed. “I’ll never be able to look at the tavern floor again without seeing my father’s body.”
“I heard what that no-good policeman said yesterday. He called it a robbery gone wrong. But, I’m guessing, you don’t agree.”
“Nobody robs a tavern at seven o’clock in the morning,” Grace reasoned. “We’d not even opened for business. So, no, I don’t agree. It’s definitely Devon Barkley behind my father’s death, I know it in my very soul.”
“Speaking of souls,” Simon said, “there’s one that’s been knocking on the door between here and the afterlife for a few days now. They just can’t seem to find their way in.”
“As the self-appointed welcoming committee, isn’t it your job to help them?” Grace asked. “Or, have you passed your duties on to one of the others?”
“What others? I know they’re here… at least a few of them. I can feel their energy, but I haven’t actually seen another of my kind since your pa died. Other than her, of course.” Simon shook his head, rattling the bottles of whiskey, gin, and vodka.
“The Lady in White?”
“Aye. She’s goes from one room to the next, floating around like she owns the place.”
Grace chuckled. “Well, she kind of does. After all, she’s been here longer than all of us.”
“Still, she doesn’t—”
Simon’s words were cut short by the opening of the tavern door. Grace swiveled around on the stool, expecting to see either Detective Mitchell, or one of his patrolmen. Instead, she came face-to-face with a stranger. A tall, well-dressed, and somewhat handsome stranger.
Her spicy romances have won top awards year after year and received cover quotes from some of the most recognized names in the romance industry. Nancy was named Top Canadian Author for 2021 by N.N. Lights Book Heaven.
When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.
Award-winning authors Lisa Olech, Kathryn Hills, Nancy Fraser, and moihave each written a story about the Crowe’s Nest Tavern, located in the fictional New England town of Last Light Point.
Don’t look at the gibbet… Legend has it that disaster will strike all those who do. The townspeople of Last Light Point have come to respect the centuries-old advice. Those that didn’t, paid the price. 4 stories – 4 time periods – 1 haunted tavern…
The Pirate’s Promise by Lisa A. Olech
Autumn 1728 The Crowe’s Nest Tavern was located in a fortuitous place. If you were condemned to hang in Execution Square, they were your last stop.
Everly Crowe along with her father and two sisters ran The Crowe’s Nest that was rumored to be slightly haunted, although Everly never believed in such foolishness….until she did.
John Beckett was a pirate, or not. Forced upon the account, he’d lost his belief in many things before he caught the eye of a bonny serving lass who was fierce enough to go toe to boot with his captor and captain, Bartholomew Jacques.
Jacques held a note on the tavern and tormented Everly and her family as he terrorized all the small towns up and down the coast. But even his threats couldn’t keep Everly and John from promising themselves to each other, “‘till death do us part.” After Jacques and his crew are captured and sent to the gallows, Everly learns those fateful words have little meaning when love is forever.
Smoke and Mirrors by Kathryn Hills
Autumn 1867 Sometimes when you knock on heaven’s door. . .the dead answer back.
Willow Pinch lives life on a razor’s edge in world of deception and disguise. By day she hides in plain sight as Will, a servant boy. Nights are spent as a table knocker, aiding so-called spiritualists in duping townsfolk into believing loved ones speak from the grave.
That is until the ghosts of Last Light Point unmask her before the only man she’s ever cared for. Dare she trust Morgan Blackwell with her secrets?
Morgan invests every hard-earned penny in The Crowe’s Nest. He doesn’t trust strangers. Yet the last thing he expects are charlatans hell-bent on destroying his reputation with so-called séances. Not to mention there are ghosts in his tavern now! Be damned, must he turn his back on the infuriating woman he longs to protect?
Will the dead of Last Light Point guide Willow and Morgan to lasting love? Or will the dark forces they’ve unleashed lead to ruin?
For the Love of Grace by Nancy Fraser
Fall, 1941 Grace O’Hearn has lived in Last Light Point since long before the ’29 stock market crash took so much from so many. Ten years later, things are looking up. When Grace’s father is murdered, Grace becomes the sole owner of the Crowe’s Nest Tavern–an establishment that dates back centuries, and comes with its own resident ghosts.
FBI agent, Max Stewart, is sent to Last Light Point to investigate racketeering and police corruption. Could it be connected to man’s murder? When he first meets Grace, he’s convinced she’s hiding something. Yet, her keen insight about the town, and everyone in it, may be the best lead he has.
Can they work together to bring down the guilty? Or, will an attraction neither of them wants keep getting in the way?
A Promise Fulfilled by Peggy Jaeger
Late October, Present Day After winning millions in a national lottery, local librarian Daisy Morgan sets out to revitalize the infamous Crowe’s Nest Tavern. After saving the historic inn from the auction block, Daisy begins a major renovation only to discover some hidden secrets – and a few unearthly spirits – tied to the tavern’s history.
Writer Keegan Warren arrives to do a story on the tavern weeks before the grand re-opening. Keegan’s got a few secrets of his own about why he wanted the assignment – secrets that unfold no matter how diligently he tries to keep them hidden. With Daisy’s help, he unearths a centuries-old murder tied to his family’s past.
As they investigate, their mutual attraction grows. But will their budding relationship suffer when the truth is discovered?
From A PROMISE FULFILLED…
The door blew open a moment later, pulling her out of her musings of swashbuckling pirates, bar wenches, and spectral messengers.
The wind whipped the door backward and for the thousandth time, she cursed the fact she hadn’t made Cooper change it to a push open instead of a pull open door. Her obsession with historical accuracy sometimes made things more difficult than they had to be.
A man, backlit by the partly sunny day, stood, holding the door ajar with both hands. She couldn’t make out his features, just the fact he was tall.
Impressively tall.
With both hands, he yanked the door closed as he stepped inside and shook his head like a dog shucking rainwater from its coat.
“Lord. It’s windy here,” he muttered. Standing inside the doorway now, she had a full view of him. Hair the color of warm chestnuts flirted with the collar of his jacket in a chaos of waves. With a flick of his head, he flung them back from his face as he turned and lit on her.
“Miss Morgan?”
Daisy didn’t recognize this workman from the too many she’d already met since the renovation project started. One face and name inevitably bled into another as the number of Cooper’s guys grew almost weekly.
But this face? This one she would have remembered.
She wouldn’t have been able to forget it if she tried.
Eyes the color of a savage sea peered across the room at her, the corners tilting upward. The brows over them mimicked the warm deer-tones of his hair. The line of his jaw was sharp and hard as steel forged in fire, the cheekbones slashed across his face, chiseled from marble. All those granite lines and steely angles were a total contradiction to his mouth, though. Full, thick lips made her suddenly think of poets and love sonnets and promises whispered in the dark.
She bobbed her head a few times to clear it of the strange thoughts and moved toward him, hand outstretched. “Yes. Yes, that’s me. Daisy Morgan.”
He took her hand, those storm cloud eyes widening when a spark shot between them.
“Sorry,” she said, tugging her hand back and fisting it into her jacket pocket like a naughty child clutching something it didn’t want to be caught with. “It’s wicked dry in here, still. Old wooden floors and walls, you know? No moisture. The new heating unit’s supposed to have a built-in humidifier, but I don’t know if it’s working or not. Maybe you can tell.”
A babbling brook’s got nothing on you, girl. Get a grip. The guy’s gonna think you’re cuckoo for coco puffs.
His forehead grooved like a Venetian blind as he stared down at her.
“You want me to tell you if your new humidifier is working?” he asked.
“Yeah. Cooper said the system is top of the line, and after doing all the research I agreed, but I don’t want people getting shocked every single moment they’re in here because the air is dry.” She started walking toward the back of the bar to the utility room Coop had set up. “Maybe the moisture valve needs to be turned up higher. Who knows? Come on, I’ll show you where it is. You can look at it before you deal with the switches and see if it’s an easy fix.”
The man followed behind as she walked into what had originally been the tavern’s storage area. Over the decades, needed architectural changes were made to the building, including during the time the place had been a speakeasy in the 1920s.
“An easy fix?”
Jeez, this guy’s like a parrot. Why is it the gorgeous ones are always either a little slow on the upbeat or know-it-alls?
“With the opening in two weeks, I want this place locked down and ready to go way before that. I want nothing to ruin it.”
“Yes, about the opening, that’s why I’m—”
“The schedule was tight to begin with, then with these nuisance things popping up, like the switches, I’m worried we won’t be ready. Did you bring new ones?”
She moved into the room, devised originally as a tiny storage chamber. The modernization of the tavern to 21st-century standards had been one of the most expensive issues when Daisy bought the place. New lighting, plumbing, and some structural updates she’d expected and budgeted for. Having to install a new heating and cooling system with all the necessary state and federal codes to bring it up to date, had added considerably to the cost.
“Here’s the system,” she said, pointing to a behemoth four-foot rectangular unit. She glanced down at his empty hands. “You didn’t bring tools with you?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any tools. If you’d give me—”
She sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a repairman or contractor who doesn’t cart his own toolbox around like a bad habit he can’t break. Oh well, I’m sure Cooper’s got something around here you—”
“Miss Morgan, please. Stop.”
He stretched out a hand to prevent her from leaving the room and Daisy swore she felt her arm singe under the layers of her jacket and sweater. She stood, rooted to the ancient wooden floor as the most delicious warmth she’d ever felt oozed deep, deep into her very core. Like freshly poured champagne bubbles bursting over her lips, her entire body…tingled.
Those storm-colored eyes peered down at her, their brows tugged low, a question blazing across them. His gorgeous mouth pulled into an upside-down U as his fingers pressed into her arm.
“There seems to be some confusion here,” he said, after taking a sizable breath, his attention never wavering from her face. “I’m not—”
“Hey, Daisy? You in here? Oh, good. You are. Cooper sent me over to have a look at the switches.”
They both turned to see a burly, middle-aged man sporting a toolbox in one hand and a to-go coffee cup in the other, looming in the doorway.
This guy she recognized. Brad? Ben? Bill? Something with a B, at least. His gaze ping-ponged from her to the man at her side, then back to her. “Everything okay, Daisy?”
No. No, it definitely wasn’t. If Ben/Brad/Bill was here to work on the switches, then just who the heck had she been speaking to for the past ten minutes?
“Like I told you,” the man said when she glared at him. “There’s been some confusion.”
“Who are you, and why are you in my tavern?” Daisy asked, pulling out of his hold. He let her go then shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Keegan Warren. I’m a writer and I’m here to do a story on the renovation of The Crowe’s Nest Tavern,” he told her, adding, “and you.”
Starting on March 1st, I’ll be highlighting each individual story – one a day! Come back for more entertaining snippets of ghosts and romance!!! Until then, preorder the book here: GHOSTS OF NEW ENGLAND: LAST LIGHT POINT
And add it to your TO BE READ list on Goodreads, here: GHOSTS
Peggy Jaeger, Author 