If you’re looking for a fun read about first kisses and second chances, featuring a hot single-dad police officer and his accidental nanny, set in a small town in New England, with a golden retriever named Jester, a heroine whose dream in life is to run a fairy camp, and a hero who wants to build a place where everyone belongs–then this is your book.
Grab a cup of coffee or tea, and maybe some edible glitter, and get your happy meter ready as you read the second book in the Love You, Maine, series–where love isn’t just a feeling… it’s a way of life.
✓ Standalone
✓ Slow burn
✓ Single dad widower
✓ Nanny/police officer
✓ Second chance
… and a golden retriever named Jester
Read Chapter One of Love You Again
It was the last time she ever had to deal with him.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
“What am I doing?” she muttered. White puffs of condensation punctuated her words, the ice-cold night crisp and clear. Returning to western Maine after years of living in Indiana and New York had been a stark reminder of what real cold was like.
No snow tonight, at least, which made this easier.
Kylie could use a little easier in her life.
The black plastic trash bags mocked her, all six piled up in a mess in her hatchback. Her ex-boyfriend, Perry, had spent the last three months avoiding all her demands to come get his stuff, and it was finally time to act.
Being dumped in August by the guy she’d been in love with for seven years, and lived with for three, had been bad enough. Worse had been the way he’d done it: by phone.
From Thailand.
What was supposed to be a two-month work trip for him had turned into a meet cute that Kylie would find unbearably adorable if it had been anyone but her own boyfriend. The call from Thailand had been unexpected, unbelievable, and life-altering.
“I–I know it sounds crazy, Ky, but Systina and I are–well, we’re soulmates. Real ones. I can’t explain it any more than that. Sometimes fate comes along and hits you like a lightning bolt, and this is one of those times. I have clarity now about who I am and how the rest of my life needs to be, and I’m so sorry. I really am.”
Perry had sounded more excited dumping her than he ever had when he’d claimed to love her.
The call had lasted 7 minutes, 13 seconds.
Her phone said so.
Six years ended in 7 minutes, 13 seconds.
Poof.
Never once had Perry uttered the words break up. He just blathered on about soulmates, and Systina, and how she was Swedish royalty with a Nepalese father, and that they’d met at a youth hostel jazz performance, and how Kylie needed to help him close his bank accounts in the U.S., ship his various and sundry personal items to him in Thailand, and basically become his executive assistant, wrapping up his life with her in a neat little bow so he could go out into the big, wide world with his true lightning-bolt soulmate and leave her behind.
The sad part? Kylie had done it. Most of it, anyway.
Until the rage kicked in.
On autopilot, she’d felt a deep sense of ethical responsibility to not lash out and be unreasonable. To show she was a more evolved adult than Perry. For three months, she had collected his vital records from his desk and couriered them to him in Thailand. She’d shipped items to his sister in California, no small feat from their tiny town in Maine. Jo at the post office in Fixby Hills gave her sad, puppy dog eyes every time Kylie came in with yet another box or thick, padded envelope to ship.
And the gossip mill got another half hour of filler for the day.
Sometime in late October, though, she snapped out of it. She bagged up the rest of Perry’s crap and called him and his sister with a single message:
“Come get the rest of your stuff. You have one month. Then I’m donating it to charity.”
No reply from either.
Here it was, exactly one month and one day since that message. As a courtesy, she’d sent one final warning yesterday.
No reply.
Exorcising Perry from her physical life was a much-needed rite, one she’d prefer to perform with a sage stick, wine, and her sister, Wendy, but this was a decent substitute on Thanksgiving Day.
She was grateful to be done with Perry.
Tossing a hatchback’s worth of his junk into a charity donation bin would be a great way to lose fifty pounds or so.
She patted her thighs.
Who was she kidding? After this, she’d go back to her apartment, eat the rest of the pumpkin pie she’d had for Thanksgiving dinner, cry, then watch Elf.
And laugh.
The thought made her smile as she reached for the first bag, an overstuffed monstrosity that puffed when she grabbed it, the scent of Perry’s aftershave wafting up. Three months ago, she’d have sobbed, but now?
Now, she just saw red.
Deke’s Service Station and Breakfast Diner was deserted but it would be bustling early with the five a.m. construction crowd, guys coming in for a fill-up, pack of ciggies, and some coffee from the counter. Maybe a nice fresh donut, or a packaged bear claw pastry. Perhaps a full breakfast if they had time, eggs and hash browns or pancakes all served with ruthless efficiency and wisecracks that only come from one local to another.
This time of night, though, it was creepily quiet, the new moon shining down like it was trying to protect her.
From what? Humiliation?
Too late.
Clutching the first big bag, she reached up for the donation bin’s handle, a two-foot-wide bar that you pulled down to reveal an opening that the bags could be tossed into. It reminded her of returning library books, though she hated having that pleasant experience tainted by Perry and his whole “finding himself” experience in Thailand.
Oh, sure. He found himself, all right.
Found himself inside Systina the Wundersoulmate. Perry had never been an introspective guy, so she knew exactly what part of him he found “deep” inside Systina.
“Cathartic,” she whispered. “This is going to be so cathartic.”
As Kylie stood, holding the bar with one hand, the bag in the other, she pondered for a moment, then acted. Wedging her left elbow into the pull-down door to hold it open, she heaved the bag up to the door, hands on the broad side of it, and shoved.
Hard.
“FREE!” she called out. “I’m FREE OF YOU, PERRY!”
Except she pushed with a little too much force, a little too much gusto. Her car keys and phone apparently decided they, too, would be free.
In abject horror, Kylie watched them disappear into the steel container and tumble five feet down, swallowed by the dark, empty space. Her breath formed a white billow of anxiety as she screamed one word.
Like FREE, it started with the letter F.
~~~
Available in ebook / audio / print at your favorite retailer.
Amazon: https://mybook.to/LYA_AznALL
Apple Books: https://mybook.to/LYA_AppleBooks
Kobo: https://mybook.to/LYA_Kobo
Nook: https://mybook.to/LYA_Nook
Google Play: https://mybook.to/LYA_GP
Print: https://mybook.to/LYA_Print
Website: https://mybook.to/LYA_JKAwebsite
Narrated by Erin Mallon and Teddy Hamilton
Audible: https://mybook.to/LYAAud
Amazon Audio: https://mybook.to/LYA_AznAudio
iTunes: https://mybook.to/LYA_AppleAudio
