Welcome to MidWeek Tease, where authors share tempting snippets to tide you over till the weekend. A huge shout out to author Angelica Dawson for hosting our blog hop every week!
The Painter is a Lady is now available in paperback!
Available in EBook from the following retailers:
Who will knuckle under first—
The war hero?
The spirited single mom?
Or the former high school bully who still hates them both?
Word count: 74,600
Genre:
Romantic Suspense
Heat Level:
Three flames
BLURB
When war hero Michael Jarvis returns to his hometown on the shores of Lake Superior, he doesn’t plan to stay—he’s undercover, investigating a possible sex trafficking ring operating on the Great Lakes. But he does want to sample the pesky girl next door he always turned down—and it wouldn’t hurt if she’d clear up a few mysteries of her own along the way.
Successfully established as an interior house painter, Brenda Tower finally has her act together as a single mom—but it hangs by a thread, a secret she’ll guard with her life. The return of her youthful crush Michael Jarvis threatens to unravel everything.
Jealousy has inflamed Brett Hill’s hatred of Michael and Brenda for as long as he can remember. Revenge will be so sweet—and it will fit in perfectly with his high stakes game.
When the secrets break open, can Michael and Brenda find the courage to trust each other, or will revenge and betrayal triumph?
EXCERPT
Hours later, Michael dried the china, crystal and silverware Brenda had brought out for his dad’s birthday party that didn’t go in the dishwasher. Tommy had gone to his room as soon as the others had left. No one seemed surprised that Michael had lingered to help with the dishes. More than satisfied with the turn of events, he hummed a show tune while Brenda fidgeted with the last of the silverware.
Remaining focused on scrubbing a stubborn piece of icing from a fork, Brenda muttered, “You’re making me nervous.”
“What?” He scowled at her profile. “Am I standing too close? Am I humming too loudly?”
Heaving an exasperated sigh, Brenda dropped the fork in the dishwater and turned to face him. “All of the above and much more. You didn’t have to stay behind and help with the dishes. I can do this without you. I have for years.”
“I’m sure you can. But that’s not what’s gnawing at you, is it? I thought you were coming around.” He stared at her through half closed eyelids.
She blanched.
“You’re the one who started the knee play beneath the dining table.”
“I know.” She shrugged, looking lost. “That was my impish clown, I guess. I can’t explain it, Michael. I’m sorry. I dreamed about you for hours on end when I was a kid. I threw myself at you. But you didn’t want me then. I was a fool.”
“Maybe I was the fool,” he replied softly, rubbing the back of his hand across her shoulder.
~ o ~ ~ o ~
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