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Showing posts with label Romantic Comedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romantic Comedy. Show all posts

Monday, January 19, 2015

Book Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway: Love Struck (Serendipity Falls #3) by Patrice Wilton


Love Struck
by Patrice Wilton
Series: Serendipity Falls, #3
Genre: Romantic Comedy/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 21, 2014



"LOVE STRUCK" by USA TODAY Best Selling author PATRICE WILTON.
Can Samantha and Kyle resist their attraction and find a way to save the town? The "love bug curse" and the discovery of gold has turned Serendipity Falls into a place where no one is safe.



PROLOGUE

I'm Cupid, and for those who don't know about me, I reside in what used to be a beautiful little town in the foothills of Mammoth, California, called Serendipity Falls. You have to forgive me for being less upbeat than usual, but my heart is broken. This once idyllic town has been overrun by people who have no concept of the true meaning of love. For the past several years I took great joy uniting couples in matrimonial bliss, and was very proud of the fact that while weddings abounded, divorces became extinct. Then my ego got the better of me, and I drew attention to myself. People flocked to Serendipity Falls to find love and the truth behind the so called 'love bug' in the spring water. Of course, you and I know that no such bug existed--it was just me up to my old tricks. 
The news carried wide and far, and reporters came to our neck of the woods, eager to learn what the phenomenon was about--this wedding fever that drove strangers toward the altar. Oh, I had been so proud. Even won the National Cupid for Excellence three years running. 
So what am I complaining about, you ask? Well, last year one of these reporters fell in love with one of our local girls. Yes, I had a little hand in that. I'm not sorry and make no apologies either. They were right for each other, and I never--not once--unite couples who are not a perfect match. 
Well, this young buck didn't discover any 'love bug'--instead he discovered gold behind the falls. His story drew national attention and opened up an unsavory can of worms. People flocked to our little paradise, men seeking their fortune in gold--women seeking husbands.
This is where my ambling story takes an unfortunate turn.  You see-the women are desperate and have resorted to the most unladylike behavior--fighting one another, setting traps for men. Hundreds arrive by busloads each month, and with Valentine's Day approaching, I fear a thousand more will get here soon.
The sad truth is that they have no idea what love is. The meaning of love has been forgotten, or perhaps in some cases, never learned. 
With a heavy heart, I watch and pray that common sense will prevail and the crazy antics will stop. Until that day happens, I am going to retire my trusty bow and arrow. I want no part of this.
Love cannot be forced. It cannot be controlled. It cannot be tricked, or trapped. Love is setting someone free, and wanting that person's happiness more than their own. It is unselfish. It is considerate and caring. And it is the essence of joy.
When those lessons have been learned I will embrace my love making skills again, but until then silence will be my answer.    

CHAPTER ONE

Kyle wiped down a spill on the bar as his brother Devon slammed the register closed. “What’s the matter with you?” Kyle asked, dropping the beer stained towel in the small bar sink.
"Just tired. It was another good night, though, so I can’t complain." Devon rubbed his bad knee as he eyed the crowd around the two pool tables. "And pretty quiet, all things considered."
"Not quiet enough. I gave those guys ‘last call’ twenty minutes ago, but don't see anyone making a move." Kyle didn't care for the new crowd. The regulars were a different bunch, but lately the place was swarming with guys who wanted to get lucky with women, or had come to town in search of gold. Either way they were rude and obnoxious.
"We'll give them another fifteen, then pull the plug. I told Tara I'd be home before midnight. She hates me driving so late--ever since that city slicker missed the bend, and flew over the cliff. I told her a zillion times that he wasn't a local and didn't know the turns, but she worries anyway."
"That's what women do--worry." Kyle grinned, still shocked that his older brother had happily taken the marital plunge. "One of the many reasons I don't go there. I'd hate to see a gorgeous gal like Tara get gray hairs over me."
"As if! When was the last time you went on a date? Three, four months ago?" He scoffed. "You must be the biggest chicken in town." Devon flapped his arms, which looked kind of silly for a macho, six foot two,  muscular guy. "Cluck, cluck, cluck."
"Very funny." Kyle snorted and continued to stack the beer glasses. "I'm no fool. Like things just the way they are."
As he spoke the words, he realized they weren't true. He'd enjoyed Mammoth and the quaint little town of Serendipity when they’d been peaceful and quiet. That life was gone forever. Ever since gold was discovered last spring behind the falls, the place exploded and became a boomtown. Crazies flocked into the area--women camping out, looking for their future husbands. Some actually carried lassoes in their big handbags, even snare traps. Scary shit.
The damn love bug thing is what drew Chase, who used to be a reporter for the San Francisco News, into the area in the first place. He didn’t discover the existence of the love bug in the spring water, but he did get the story of a lifetime. A meteor crash caused moldavite formations, which led him to the discovery of gold, of all damn things. Until Chase went searching for the source, everyone in Serendipity had been happy enough with the mysterious love bug theories.
For better or worse, Chase Carlton changed the dynamics. Not intentionally, of course. He was a stand-up guy, and had married their sister Mila last summer, then knocked her up to boot.
That mitigating factor made Kyle the only single O'Reilley left. He guarded his independence as though it was the American Declaration for equality and liberty, and it might slip away any second. Not that he had any complaints because his siblings were happy, but he doubted it was the water, or something magical in the mountain air that had brought them together. Watching Devon with Tara, and Mila with Chase, he could see their love was real.
“I can’t really blame you for running scared,” Devon said. "Did you see that busload of women on the news earlier?”
“Getting off at the mall, wearing ‘MARRY ME' t-shirts?” Kyle sighed. “Yeah. The reporter said the ladies hope to be hitched by Valentine’s Day.”
“Damn. I nearly forgot. That's coming up soon."
“Can't forget, bro,” Kyle laughed. “It's two weeks from now. Better buy Tara flowers or something pretty."
"I'm sure she'll give me a hint. She likes to make life easy."
"You got lucky, but the rest of us...heck, all the good women are gone." There were days when Kyle thought about moving to Hawaii. At least the locals only had erupting volcanoes to worry about. And a possible Tsunami, which seemed mild in comparison to what he dealt with on a daily basis.
As a single man, and not exactly unattractive, he had to keep his head low and his fly zipped. He was the most endangered species around. Far more threatened than the Bald Eagle or the Giant Panda.
He and Dev ran the most popular bar in town, and with all those hungry, single babes, well, the place got hot. Cat fights broke out whenever an unsuspecting new guy appeared. They'd had to hire a bodyguard/bartender named Flex, and he helped put out the fires, but the two brothers had also become adept at squashing brawls before the place got wrecked.
Devon sighed, staring at the group still playing pool as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Things sure have changed from a few years ago.”
“Are you sorry you didn't listen to me when I tried to talk you into selling?”
“No. Not at all. We got lucky,” Devon shook his head. “Finances were tight as hell. But then the boom came. Saved our asses.”
“Bad part is that with the cash came the crazies.” Kyle shrugged his shoulders. "One problem got solved, but others took its place. Gotta fight the IRS, who want to get their greedy hands on the profits, and then we have these, these..." he sputtered, searching for the right word. "These men-eating women!"
Devon just laughed. "I remember the time you'd have thought you'd died and gone to heaven with all the young ladies chasing you."
"Key word is ladies. That's not what we've got here."
The clock ticked at 10:55 p.m. “Closing time,” he called out, loud enough for everyone to here. “I'll lock up," he said quietly to Devon, and headed toward the door.
Halfway there, the door swung open and a pretty young woman strolled in. Pretty was a vast understatement. She looked like she came from Sweden or Norway with her thick blonde mane of hair falling straight past her shoulders. In any language, she was a knockout. Striking blue eyes--as clear and wide as the lake near the falls.
She brushed past him without making eye contact and headed straight for the bar. He followed her, his eyes on the curve of her hips. Nice ass. And long, forever legs.
Normally this time of year heavy winter coats hid a woman's best assets, but she wore jeans and a short leather jacket. Kyle allowed himself a moment's appreciation.
"I'll have a Chardonnay, please." She slid onto the stool, putting both elbows on the bar, supporting her head with her hands.
Kyle eyed her for a moment. She was either exhausted or drunk. Either way, he didn't intend on serving her. Knockout or no knockout. "Sorry, Miss. But we're just closing." He jerked his thumb at the clock on the wall. "Eleven o'clock."
She popped open an eye, squinted and looked at the clock behind the bar. "It's five to. I'll drink fast."
Kyle leaned in her direction, wondering if there would be tell-tale signs of booze on her breath. You all right? Haven't been drinking, have you?"
Devon coughed into his fist at Kyle’s rude remark, but Kyle shrugged. He rinsed the towel from the sink, and started wiping the bar down. Last thing they needed was to be found negligible serving a minor, or someone who'd had too much to drink and wrapped themselves around a pole.
She pulled herself up, lifted her chin and shot him a look that should have sent him straight to hell. "I haven't had anything but water all day." Her voice quivered, and her blue eyes shimmered.
Kyle felt his resolve melt as he watched the tears appear.
"I've been driving for darn near sixteen hours straight. Got to Serendipity Falls and they'd given away my room for the night. Said I was late and they couldn't hold my reservation."
"That's rotten luck. You probably should have called to let them know you were on your way," Kyle said, taking some of the asshole out of his voice.
She ignored his not-so-helpful comment. "I ran around everywhere. Not one single room to be found." She sniffed and tried to smile, but the attempt failed dismally. "Now give me that drink, or I'm likely to have a meltdown right here and now."
Kyle, feeling like a jerk, looked at Devon, who nodded. "You need something to eat? We've got bar snacks. Not much, I'm afraid, but our hotdogs are pretty good."
"That's nice of you, but no. I grabbed a bite to eat at the diner before driving up here. The one that overlooks the falls." She wiped away a tear that had seeped out the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek. "The waitress there, Sue something, she gave me a big bowl of home-made chili and fresh baked bread."
"Sue Burke's a heck of a nice woman," Kyle said, pouring a generous glass of wine and sliding it over to her. "Also makes the best soups in town."
"Uh-huh." She plopped her head in her hand again, as if too tired to hold it up. "Would have had my wine there, but I didn't know how far up the mountain I had to go."
"Good thing. The road can be dangerous at night." Kyle normally didn't engage in conversation with pretty young women, but she seemed more interested in her glass of wine, so he relaxed his guard a notch. "Take your time. We'll need to start moving our customers toward the door soon. Probably won't empty out until half past, sometimes closer to midnight."
She nodded, thanked him, and took a long swallow. Then another. "I still need to find a place to sleep." She glanced around at the twenty or so people hanging around. "You know of a cheap motel where I can stay?"
Devon stopped rinsing glasses and stepped forward. "I do. My place."
    Her eyes widened. "I'm desperate, but not that desperate. Besides, I'm not that kind of girl."
Devon laughed. "My wife and I own a B&B. Someone checked out this morning. We have one room which might still be available. I'd have to check with Tara to be sure."
"Please do. That would be great."
Devon walked to the other side of the bar to make the call.
Kyle couldn't seem to get his feet moving. He wasn't sure why, but this woman's plight struck a chord in him. "Things will work out," he told her. "If not Devon's, I'll call around and find you a place."
"Why are you being so kind all of a sudden?" Her eyes grazed his face, and she frowned. "No one goes out of their way for strangers. There's always an angle."
"They do here in Mammoth and down in Serendipity Falls. It's the friendliest place in the nation. At least, it used to be."
"So I heard, but not for me tonight."
"Give it some time. You'll see."
"Hey, Kyle. Another Cosmo before you close down," someone shouted from the back of the room.
"You've had enough," Kyle shouted back. "Closing time, folks.  Drink up and drive safely. We'll see you all back here tomorrow."
Over the boos and hisses, a male voice spoke up. "You just served the lady a drink. One more round. Come on," he coaxed. "One last call."
"Last call was a half hour ago. Maybe you didn't hear it."
Devon was on the phone with Tara, and he put his hand to his throat, telling Kyle to cut them off.
"We're done here, folks." Kyle raised his voice. "It's quitting time."
"I'm sorry. If I hadn't come in..." the pretty woman spoke softly, and lifted her eyes. Kyle saw the two blue ponds brimming with tears.
Kyle could see she was close to losing it. The long drive. Hotel room gone. It had been a hellova day and she looked set for a weeping jag. "Don't be. They're always one or two assholes in the crowd."
Devon came back with a smile. "You're in luck. We've still got one room, and my wife, Tara, is holding it for you. You can follow me when I leave. It's about half way between us and Serendipity."
“Back the other way?” She took another sip of her wine, her expression cautious. "Perhaps I'd better stay in town." She fingered the stem of her glass. "Not that I'm not grateful. Just...you know."
She shrugged but her eyes said it all. She didn't know him, and hesitated over trusting him.
Devon rested his hip against the bar. "It's getting late, and you don't want to be running all over town looking for a room, do you?"
A guy with a ponytail and a baseball cap stood leaning against a pole, where he'd been watching her with drunken interest. He stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, girl. If you're looking for a bed tonight, you can share mine." He laughed. "Don't need to worry about a jealous wife. Ain't got one."
"Back off, Billy. Go home. You've had enough beer for one night," Kyle told him, his jaw set.
"Mind your own business, Kyle. I'm about to get lucky with this pretty lady here." His arm tightened around her shoulders and he pulled her close. He smiled, breathing fumes into her face. "If you're here to find a man, you don't need to look any further."
She shrugged his arm off of her, and twisted away. "I'm not looking for a man. Just a hotel room."
"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be alone tonight." Billy said with a leer. "I'll give you a good old-fashioned welcome. Show you how friendly us locals can be."
“Enough,” Kyle said, annoyed that this woman was getting harassed in his bar. He poured half a beer and beckoned Billy. As soon as the guy was close enough, Kyle popped him on the jaw and watched him stagger back.  "That's no way to treat a lady. Now, get out."
Billy recovered quickly and came after Kyle, who stepped out of arm range, and danced light on his feet like a prize fighter. Billy continued to flail his arms, attempting in his inebriated state to reach Kyle, who should have known better than to taunt him with tight jabs and fancy footwork. Just maybe he was showing off a little.
"You had enough?" Kyle said, putting down his hands. "Why don't you go home and sleep it off."
"Just about done." Billy, cross-eyed, delivered a right hook, which Kyle managed to dodge. After that everything happened in slow motion.
The shot directed at Kyle's chin missed its mark, connecting with the woman at the bar. She cried out, and toppled off the barstool.
Devon moved quickly, grabbing Billy by his ponytail and forcefully taking him out to the street. Kyle leaped into action, crouching at the woman's side. Remorse, anger, and shame warred inside of him. He'd been a fool to taunt Billy. And this poor girl had taken the brunt of the fist. A damn fine welcome she'd had in this once friendly town.
"I'm sorry. This is entirely my fault." He touched her shining hair, wanting to do something crazy, like take her in his arms and hold her tight. Poor kid. Her bad day had just gotten a whole lot worse.
She shook his hand off and edged away.
"Are you all right?" he asked gently. "That fist was meant for me. You didn't deserve it." She was scrunched over and he couldn't see her face.
He stood, offering her his hand. She didn't take it.
"He just grazed me,” she whispered. “But it was the shock that scared me." She stood up slowly, brushing off her jeans, and then pushed her hair out of her eyes. They were wide, alert, but not frightened.
"Are you sure?" He touched her chin gently, turning her face from side to side, inspecting it for bruises. "It's a little pink, right here," he touched the side of her cheek. His voice sounded weird to his own ears. He cleared his throat. "Is it sore?"
"No." She shook her head. "I'm not hurt."
"Damn." He'd known Billy for years, and had never seen him act out before. He'd had more to drink than normal, but that was no excuse for his actions tonight. "This place doesn't usually get rowdy, but with all the strangers lately, well, we never know what to expect."
"It's all right. I grew up with two brothers. I'm used to a few wild punches."
They stood close to each other, staring into each other's eyes. Kyle couldn't look away. Seemed like she couldn't either.
"What's your name?" He licked his dry lips, watching her mouth. He liked the shape of it. Lush, pink lips, slightly open. Kissable lips, a mouth that could drive a man crazy. Not Billy crazy, but thinking about how fine they'd taste, and how he'd like to suck on that bottom lip...
"It's Samantha," she said in a husky voice, as if she were having trouble breathing. "I go by Sam."
"Nice to meet you, Sam. I'm Kyle O'Reilley, and that's my brother, Devon. You can trust him. He and Tara will take good care of you, I promise."
"You've both been so kind," she said, putting her hand to her throat. “Devon, thanks for calling your wife. What about you, Kyle? Married?”
Kyle took an instinctive step backward, seeing the overly-bright sheen in her eyes. His body reacted to her husky voice. Not good, man. Not good.
His antenna went on full survival alert. "Well, Sam, truth is, when it comes to single women and husband shopping, I'm a little gun shy."



Grab the whole Serendipity Falls Series in One Box Set!


Patrice Wilton knew from the age of twelve that she wanted to write books that would take the reader to faraway places. She was born in Vancouver, Canada, and had a great need to see the world that she had read about.

Patrice became a flight attendant for seventeen years and traveled the world. At the age of forty she sat down to write her first book—in longhand! Her interests include tennis, golf, and writing stories for women of all ages.

She is the proud mother of two, has four lovely grand-daughters, and a wonderful man at her side. They live in West Palm Beach, Florida, where he teaches her golf, and she teaches him patience. She is a USA Today Best Selling author.







Friday, November 14, 2014

Book Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway: For the Love of Candy (Candy Bar #4) by Patrice Wilton


For the Love of Candy
by Patrice Wilton
Series: Candy Bar, #4
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: August 5, 2014



FOR THE LOVE OF CANDY is the fourth and final book in the Candy Bar series. For everyone who has read and loved this romantic comedy series, I want to thank you for buying my book, loving my women, laughing late into the night, and sharing this joy with me. The happiness you have given me by reading your wonderful reviews were the greatest gift I could ever receive, and made me believe in myself as a writer. It is because you cared and asked me for Candy’s story that I gave this story life, and I hope that I will have fulfilled your every wish. The magic is here. Please read on and enjoy the final conclusion to Candy’s story.

The Candy Bar is in trouble. Crime and corruption has changed the landscape of the street. Candy can stay and fight it, or sell and run. She has called an emergency meeting with her dear friends, the sisters of her heart, to tell them her decision. Enter Harrison Wolfe—Boston lawyer, probably a Mayflower descendant by his arrogance and arresting good looks. He has come to the Candy Bar to tell her that his daughter is engaged to her son Billy. He’s only 21 and graduating from college, and is certainly not ready to take on the responsibilities of marriage. Harrison is also strongly opposed to this engagement and wants to put an end to it before it even begins. Thunder cracks open the sky, lightning strikes, and Harrison and Candy are caught up in the magic and madness. Now they have to fight their attraction—and keep their pants on--to stay focused on keeping their children apart. This hilarious, touching, upbeat story will engage your emotions and hopefully have you laughing one minute, and wiping tears the next. 



CHAPTER ONE

Sunshine filtered through the stained-glass windows as I opened the door to the Candy Bar, but the cavernous interior remained dark and gloomy. It was always this way until the room filled with people, then the sound of laughter and bubbly good times turned this old Mission Inn into something magical.

I maneuvered through the clusters of tables and chairs, then dumped my keys and handbag on the mahogany bar, turning the lights on dim.

For the past ten years the Candy Bar has been my home, bringing pride, joy and a comfort of living that I never expected. Still, nothing remains static. The rivers of life keep flowing and a girl has to adapt to the sudden change of current, or drown.

One thing for sure—I’m great at adapting. I took the lemons life tossed at me and created a profitable lemonade stand. Kicked out of my house with a baby on the way, I’d had to scrape out a living. It hadn't always been easy and it hadn't been pretty, but I’d done what I needed to do. Successfully, on my terms.

And so I would again.

I’d tell my friends, sisters of the heart, that it was a business decision and we all needed to keep our emotions out of it. Right? As if that would happen.

I stepped behind the bar and wiped my damp palms with a dry cloth. Perspiration dotted my upper lip and my brow, but I knew it wasn't the Miami humidity. A nervous stomach was the culprit.

I lifted my chin and glanced in the mirror. “Buck up, Candy Thompson,” I told myself. “This isn't your first rodeo and it isn't your last. The girls will understand.”

My eyes told me differently. I sucked in a breath. Okay, telling them I was going to sell would break their hearts. I knew that. It was also breaking mine. There was nothing to do about it; the decision was made and it was final.

I expected them to arrive any minute, but I couldn't sit down to wait. Instead I grabbed the cloth and began to polish the already perfectly polished bar. Once that was done, I played with the liquor bottles in front of the brick wall, rearranging them attractively so they lined up in a row.

I was still puttering when the door opened. Momentarily blinded by sunlight, I blinked and made out a tall, svelte body topped with fiery red hair.

I gripped the edge of the slick wood. “Hey, Lydia,” I greeted her as though I didn’t have a care in the world. “You’re the first to arrive.” A lawyer, a mother, a wonderful friend—who still made time in her busy schedule to see me in the middle of the day.

I closed my eyes against the onslaught of memories and walked around the bar, into her hug. My smile was as big as it was false.

“Candy,” she cried, searching my face for clues. “What’s up? You’re scaring the heck out of us, calling this emergency meeting.”

“I’ll tell you as soon as the others get here.” I laughed weakly. “Middle-aged drama. Nothing life threatening.”

Lydia sniffed. “Middle-aged? Hardly. You’re younger than Fran and me, although outside of this room, I’d deny it.” She stepped back and crossed her arms to study me, knowing there was more to it. “The rest of us have drama, but you always handle things in stride.”

“Guess I’m due for a meltdown, then.” I hoped the others arrived soon so I could explain my decision just once.

As if on cue, Fran and Susie entered together and I breathed a sigh of relief. After warm hugs, I gestured them to their barstools. For years they’d each parked their butts in the same order along the bar. Lydia, Fran, Susie.

I looked at their beautiful faces and choked up, my airway clogged with emotion but no way would I cry. How could I tell my dear friends that it was time for me to move on? I knew they’d do anything, say anything to rope me down and keep me here.

I returned to my spot behind the bar, my source of comfort. I sucked in a couple of deep breaths and then straightened my shoulders, determined to say what had to be said. My stomach rolled with nerves.

“As you all know, the Candy Bar hasn't been doing so well lately. Business has slowed to a trickle during the week, and is about half of what we used to bring in on the weekends.”

“It’s the end of the season. Things always get slow,” Lydia said, her tone defensive.

I shook my head, and fought back my emotions. The head had to overrule the heart.

“This neighborhood has changed in the last couple of years. It used to be quiet, set back from South Beach, but the action has crept here. I’ve seen drug deals go down on the streets and I’m pretty sure there’s some prostitution three blocks over by the gas station.” Before they could speak, I rushed on. “The cops are everywhere, but they don’t, or can’t, stop the progression of crime. It’s killing my bottom line. I need to sell before it’s too late to see even a small profit.” Although it wasn't about the money. Not really.

Fran’s brow creased with concern. Her honey-toned pixie spikes bobbed as her chin rose. “There’s a new sports bar down the street, and that dance club, Dominique’s, which opened last year.” She rubbed her fingers together. “They are packing in the crowds, and don’t seem worried about the crime element.”

Probably paying off the right people, I thought.

Fran was like a determined terrier-once she sunk her teeth into something, she’d hang on to the bitter end. “So, if it’s just slow business, we’ll think of something to bring the crowd back here. Won’t we, girls?”

I rested my elbow on the bar. “My regulars are disappearing and it’s not likely they’ll be coming back. Not unless I sink a lot of money into the place.” My friends opened their lips to argue, so I raised my hand and continued, “And the club crowd, well, they are so young and flaky, that I’m just as happy not serving them. Jake and I had to crack down on fake ID. It hasn't made us popular. We don’t condone drug use on the property, which has become a real problem.”

“Drugs are a problem everywhere,” Lydia said. “And it seems the criminals are getting younger every year.”

I expelled a breath. “I don’t want the Candy Bar taking a nose-dive. I worked too hard to make it a place to be proud of, not some cheap pick-up spot for hustlers.”

“It won’t. Not this magical place,” Susie said with some heat. Her delicate features belied a strong will. “This is the best bar in South Beach, isn't it girls?” She didn't wait for an answer. “You don’t have to worry about the riff-raff. You've created a sophisticated ambiance, and you’re the savviest person around. Plus you've got Jake, the best looking hunk of a bartender in the state of Florida, and magic, to boot. The other bars can stick their head down a toilet, because the Candy Bar is here to stay.”

I slowly shook my head.

“You can’t sell.” Fran twisted her hands in her lap, her face blotchy. “You can’t. This is as much our place as it is yours.” Her cheeks turned a solid crimson.

“Fran,” I said, my heart aching. “This was a hard decision to make, but I have to get out from under the bar before it buries me.” I also needed a change. It was time to be something more.

Fran cleared her throat and lifted her chin, a pint-sized country rock maven ready to do battle. “That sounded selfish of me, but I don’t care.” Her lovely voice rose with passion. “Hell, Candy. You can’t do this.” She glanced around the room, her gaze lingering on the empty stage, and then back at her friends. “This is the place where we found our true loves. Where dreams come true. Susie’s right. It’s a magical place, and you can’t let it go. Not for love or money,” she paused and added, “or someone like Jay.”

I backed up a step, struck. “Jay has nothing to do with it.” Other than being an impetus toward getting my life together. What had I been thinking, hoping to change a man who liked all women? I’d never accept being one of his groupies, so I had to end it, or continue down a path of heartache and self-loathing. It had been fun for awhile, but that short affair was over.

“Well, then,” Lydia said, searching my face. “If it’s really just a financial decision, we can work something out. I agree with Fran, and I don’t want you to sell.” She reached for her expensive leather purse and pulled out her checkbook. “I’m going to give you a little something until things get back in full swing again.”

I raised my chin and straightened my shoulders. Even at the lowest point in my life I hadn’t taken handouts. “Put that back. I’m selling. That’s my final decision.”

Susie slid from her barstool and walked behind the bar, grabbing a chilled bottle of Sonoma Cutrer. “Candy, you better open this. It might only be three-thirty, but we’re going to need it for this conversation.” She thumped it on the counter then took her seat on the other side of the bar. “Yes, you may be the sole proprietor, but we have a stake in this place too.”

I opened the bottle and filled four glasses, then we all just looked at each other, knowing that somehow we’d reached a crossroad. Four friends that had found each other, supported one another—even though we each embarked on separate journeys, they all led back to here.

Susie broke the silence, and lifted her glass. “If it hadn’t been for that art show I might not have reconnected with Brett. I’d still be sitting here meeting men from on-line dating services who looked nothing like their pictures.”

“I remember watching you, thinking what is that beautiful girl doing, wasting her time on loser after loser?” I clinked my glass with Susie’s.

“We were married at this bar,” she whispered with tears in her bright blue eyes.

It was difficult to stay strong in the gale of her memories, but I stiffened my spine.

“I met Jed here,” Lydia spoke quietly. “The storm, the magic—we conceived Braden that night.”

I nodded. “We hadn’t met yet, but I clearly remember the magnum of champagne you’d ordered, and that you were celebrating something. Your friend got a little wasted.”

“Client.” Lydia said with a shrug. “A very good, affluent client who used my services through three of her divorces.”

Like it had been yesterday, I could still remember how Lydia had looked professional and composed, taking care to feed her client and order a cab, as the lady waved the bottle around, and flirted with every guy around.

“After you called her a cab,” Lydia spoke quietly, “I left during the tropical storm and found my car with a dead battery. Jed jumpstarted me in more ways than one,” she added with a grin.

Fran took a quick sip of her wine, then pushed the glass aside. She jerked her chin toward the small dance floor. “I saw John when I was up on that stage singing. The way our eyes connected, well, it was like a shot of electricity had gone right through us. We were two lonely people who hadn’t been out on a date in years. But in that moment everything changed—and I became quite the vamp.” She laughed. “Took him to bed that very night, I did.”

“Candy Bar magic worked for all three of you. You found true love. We came together, and I couldn’t ask for better friends.” I gave a weary sigh. It would break my heart to sell this place, but I couldn’t afford to hang on to it for sentimental reasons. “It’s gotta go.”

“Jed and I could help out,” Lydia offered, without touching her purse again, thank heaven. She didn’t understand that there was more than just the money behind my decision. Probably because I hadn’t told them that I wanted more—something new to sink my teeth into. “An interest free loan,” Lydia said softly, “if you won’t accept the gift. I insist.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Susie said, brushing her long blonde hair to the side with slender artist’s fingers. “My paintings have been selling well, and Brett and I have a little extra to spare. We want to invest. Right here.” She indicated the first four seats. “This is our corner of the bar. We own it. I’m going to buy these seats right now.”

Fran smacked the counter with typical determination. “Whoa. Wait a dang minute. My career started on that stage, and if anyone is going to put money down, it’s me. So back off, everybody. This is personal.”

I’d known they’d be upset, but to fight over giving me money? It was enough to bring me to tears. I glanced away and sucked them back. “I figured you’d be upset, but I never thought you’d try and rescue me. I should have though. It’s what we do.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. No crying, damn it. “I love you crazy girls to death, but I don’t want any one of you to float me a loan. This is a business decision, and one that I alone will make.” I met their confused, questioning gazes, imploring them to understand.

“You see…I want a clean break. To go someplace fresh. Live life for a change and stop working all the time.”

“You want to leave South Beach? Leave us?” Fran asked, her voice full of hurt.

My heart ached so badly I had to look away. My glance rested on the mural that Susie had painted, the stage where Fran had sang—so many happy memories, and ones I would always treasure. Still, as much as I loved the place, I couldn’t weaken now, or I’d be stuck here behind the bar—forever.

“You all have your own lives now, and nothing stays the same. It’s my turn to move on. I’m getting too old to be a barmaid.” I removed my straw hat and ran a loving finger across the brim. “Too old to be dressed like some sexy cowgirl.”

“You’re not old,” Susie said. “And if you take off your hat and start dressing all prim and proper,” she sniffed, “then I guess I’ll have to do the same. All of us will. No more party girls. No more Candy Ops. No more fun. Let the boring times begin.”

I grimaced at Susie’s dramatic prediction for our future.

“Put your hat back on,” Fran demanded. She grabbed it from the bar and shoved it back on my head, then continued yelling as though I were stone deaf. “What do you think you’re doing? You don’t quit. None of us do. We’re survivors, dammit, and we’ll figure a way out of this mess without selling our magical place.”

“You keep saying this is a business decision. So why won’t you take a loan?” Lydia narrowed her eyes. “You sure this isn’t about Jay Carpenter? Didn’t you go see him last week?”

I turned away from the girls, hiding the truth. “He’s not a part of my life anymore, and not a part of this decision, that’s for damn sure.” The only way Jay had influenced me was to show me what I didn’t have in my life, and what I still may want.

“Why?” Fran asked, zeroing in like a hawk on prey. “What happened in Tampa?” She reached out and touched my shoulder, turning me around.

I tugged at the brim of my hat. “Same old,” I said, like it didn’t bother me. “Found him in bed with another girl.” I grabbed my neglected glass of wine, and took a large swallow. “She was younger and prettier than the last.”

With great pretense, I gave a carefree shrug. “I finally realized that there’d always be another one, a continuous parade of women competing for Jay’s attention. Who was I to think I might change him? That man doesn't want to be corralled, and I for one have lost interest in trying.”

I tossed my head, sending my straw hat flying toward the row of booze on the bar. “I’m ready to move on. He’s not invited.”

“Oh, Candy,” Susie said softly. “I’m so sorry. You really liked him. He seemed so into you.”

“Into me, and anybody else he could nail.” That had been the hardest part for me to accept. I’d understood Jay’s celebrity status gave him carte blanche to party like a rock star. What had hurt was realizing I wasn't special enough to tame the man. For a while, it had been fun trying.

“Did you love him?” Susie asked, compassion in her tone.”No,” I answered honestly. “I don’t even like him so much anymore.”

“Ah,” Susie said. Lydia’s eyes welled and Fran’s cheeks turned red as if they all felt my misery. Unbidden, hot tears of disappointment coursed down my cheeks, my shoulders shook and I couldn’t catch a breath. Gasping, I sobbed gut-wrenching tears. Crying like I hadn’t cried since leaving home at sixteen—pregnant, rejected by my family who disowned me, sending me off to find my own place in the world.

The Candy Bar had become my place. Could I really leave it behind? My friends abandoned their barstools and came around the bar, locking me in a protective group hug. Lydia smelled like expensive perfume, Susie sandalwood and Fran like hair gel.

“We’ll always be friends,” I said, clearing my throat and pushing out of their circle. “This is so embarrassing.” I whispered. “Carrying on like this. I’m fine. Really.” Secretly, during my weak moments I’d always build myself up by thinking of myself as Candy the Conqueror. Well, that Candy had just lost total control and was blubbering like a baby.

Lydia looked like I’d smacked her in the face. “Embarrassing? We’re not only your friends, we’re your family.” She used an embossed cocktail napkin to dab at my tears. “And don’t you forget it.”

Fran stepped back, her lower lip jutted out. “I’m going to kill that Jay Carpenter. Worse, I’m going to call every person I know and have him permanently black listed.”

The idea perked me up a little and I forced a smile. “You can’t do that. His name is bigger than yours.”

She tilted her pug nose in the air. “Not for long. And once I do a proper smear campaign, no one will want to touch him. Not even his faithful groupies.”

“Need help?” Susie asked, her angelic face a mask of beautiful fury. “You twitter, and I’ll tackle facebook.”

“No one is going to do anything,” I told them, pushing them back toward their barstools. “Even if he is a two-timing whore. Darn, I can’t even call him that. He makes no bones that he screws anyone he pleases, so he doesn’t really cheat. He was honest about it from the start. That makes me stupid, not him.” My bottom lip trembled so I bit it viciously and tasted blood.

“Don’t you dare stand up for him,” Lydia said savagely. “I don’t care who he screws, as long as it isn’t you.”

“When I saw him like that—in bed with another woman, I was so filled with disgust—for him and for myself. He’d made it perfectly clear where I stood on his priority list, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like who I was. On the drive home, I came to terms with the fact I’m almost forty. My son is a legal adult graduating from college.”

I took a deep breath, smoothing my fingers across the bar. “Billy is starting new, too. It’s time I thought about finding someone to spend the rest of my life with. Someone who doesn’t sleep around and who’ll cherish me. I deserve that, don’t I?”

“You do, Candy,” they said in unison, as if they’d been practicing all week. Who needed a sexy cowboy you could ride all night and leave you cross-legged in the morning, when you had women like these at your back?

“So selling the Candy Bar isn’t just about the money.” Lydia reached for the almost empty bottle of wine.

Passing it over, I shook my head. “The neighborhood is going downhill. Just like me.”

“Will you stop saying that?” Susie frowned. “You are beautiful.”

“I saw a gray hair this morning,” I answered.

“So? You just pull them out,” Lydia responded. “Doesn’t mean you’re not hot stuff.”

“Well, I think you’re one of the most beautiful women, I know,” Fran said. “And maybe tonight some cute guy will walk in, and you’ll find your magic just like we all did.” She beamed. “Why not? Your bar, your turn.”

The Candy Bar was an old mission inn, built on an ancient Indian burial ground. We didn’t have any factual proof of any mysterious forces at work, but we liked to think that the Indians were up to old tricks. During tropical storms when the skies opened up and lightning crackled in the air, the brick wall behind the bar would begin to sweat. Inside the bar, candles flickered, lights dimmed, and whoever was the lucky or unlucky recipient of this electrical current would get zapped by magic.

By now, most of the customers knew the routine. I’d shout out “make a wish,” and the lucky recipient would wish for something and it would be granted. Since it’s never happened to me, I’m not sure what I’d wish for. I’d like a husband, but it wasn’t the top priority in my life. I wanted to give back to the people who had once supported me.

I’d eventually ended up at a women’s shelter, and they had let me stay until the baby was born. Without their nurturing care, I’m not sure if either Billy or I would have survived. So I like to think that if the magic struck me, I’d be a bigger, better person and not ask for love, but a means to help other unwed mothers.

“It’s not going to happen. I think I’m immune.”

“Next time,” Lydia suggested, “throw yourself in front of it. Don’t let anyone else steal your wish. It’s your turn for love, girlfriend.”

“I need a lot of other things first, like a demolition crew to clean this neighborhood up. That’s the only thing that will keep this business alive long enough for me to sell to a solid buyer. If I only have one wish, I sure can’t make it a man.” I was independent and quite capable, and well used to doing things for myself. A man would keep me warm at night, but then so would a blanket. And if I wanted affection, I could always get a puppy.

“Make it a rich man,” Susie said with a devilish grin. “And a drop dead gorgeous one. Go for the whole enchilada!”

“Clear skies today, girls,” I said, reaching for another bottle of wine. One of the perks of owning the place was drinking the finest wine with the best friends any girl could have.

My heart twisted as I thought of somebody else behind the bar. My bar. Had I made my decision to sell too quickly? No…it was time.

The door swung open, allowing the late afternoon sun to illuminate the dim bar. I tossed my hair back, narrowing my eyes to bring the shape of broad shoulders wearing a suit into focus.

He paused at the door, surveying the room before finding the four of us in the near gloom. I flicked a switch, softly lighting the area around the bar tables—he could see us, and we could see him.

He moved forward with a confident stride. Tall—really tall. Perhaps 6 foot 6, with dark hair. His suit was tailored, the fabric expensive even from a distance. Something about him screamed trouble and I wiped my palms on the front of my jeans.

“I’m looking for the owner,” he said, with a deep rich timber to his voice.

Trouble, yes, but from where? He was too smooth to be one of the jackasses who’d been after me for protection money for the bar. Maybe he was interested in buying the place, though I’d just listed the property last night with a realtor.

I came around the bar, with a reserved smile. I was wearing a hot pink tee that read Candy Bar in silver sequins across my considerable bosom. And hot pink cowboy boots. My attire suited the Candy Bar. Suited me. But for some reason, it made me feel ever-so-tacky next to Wall Street Ken.

I held out my hand. “I’m Candy.”

For better or worse, that’s me.



Buy the rest of the Candy Bar Series
Book 1: Replacing Barnie

Book 2: Where Wishes Come True

Book 3: Night Music


Patrice Wilton knew from the age of twelve that she wanted to write books that would take the reader to faraway places. As a voracious reader, she gobbled up books, and her imagination soared. She was born in Vancouver, Canada, and had a great need to see the world that she had read about.
Patrice became a flight attendant for seventeen years and traveled the world. At the age of forty she sat down to write her first book—in longhand! Her interests include tennis, golf, and writing stories for women of all ages.

She is the proud mother of two, has four lovely grand-daughters, and a wonderful man at her side. They live in West Palm Beach, Florida, where he teaches her golf, and she teaches him patience.

Her best selling books are the Candy Bar series, the Serendipity Falls series, and her returning war hero series. She joined a group of talented, NY Times and USA Today best selling authors and released a ten book box set--TEN BRIDES FOR TEN HEROES, followed by TEN CHRISTMAS BRIDES.








 
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