printed copy

Beach Season

Cathy Lamb, Holly Chamberlin, Lisa Jackson, Rosalind Noonan

ISBN 9780758265630
Publish Date 5/29/2012
Format Trade Paperback
Categories Women's Fiction, Kensington, Lisa Jackson

Golden sand, pounding surf, a sense of endless possibility--and four unforgettable stories of love, friendship, and second chances. . .

The Brass Ring by Lisa Jackson

It's a beautiful June day, perfect for a wedding--until Shawna learns that her fiancé, Parker, has been involved in a car crash. Though his injuries heal, his memories of her are gone. Yet Shawna won't stop reaching to reclaim the love they once shared. . .

June's Lace by Cathy Lamb

June MacKenzie is done--with her high-pressure legal career, her difficult soon-to-be-ex, and the stress of city living. In her studio on the Oregon coast, she creates beautiful lace wedding dresses, with no intention of ever wearing one again herself. Then songwriter Reece rents the house next door, and sets out to change her mind. . .

Second Chance Sweethearts by Holly Chamberlin

Thea Foss is putting a bad marriage behind her in the pretty vacation town of Ogunquit, Maine. What's past is past. . ..Until her first love wanders into the local diner, reminding Thea of the person she once was, and the life it's not too late to claim. . .

Carolina Summer by Rosalind Noonan

Jane Doyle needs to get out of New York--the farther the better. She's headed toward Florida, but thanks to a storm along North Carolina's Outer Banks, she finds herself stranded in a beautiful, remote town that soon feels a lot like home. And thanks to the local sheriff, she finds herself staying longer than she planned--and feeling less lost at sea than ever. . .

Chapter One

Ten Things I’m Worried About

1. Too many wedding dresses
2. Not enough wedding dresses
3. Grayson
4. Going broke
5. Losing my home
6. Never finding an unbroken, black butterfly shell
7. The upcoming interview with the fashion writer
8. Not having peppermint sticks in my life
9. Turning back into the person I used to be
10. Always being worried

Chapter Two

“No. Absolutely not.” I gripped the phone with white knuckles as I paced around my yellow studio. “I will never agree to that.”

“Ha. I knew you wouldn’t accept those unacceptable terms, June,” Cherie Poitras, my divorce attorney, cackled. “Your soon-tobe- ex-husband has a monstrous addiction to being a jerk but don’t worry, we’re not quitting. Quitting causes my hot flashes to flare.”

“I don’t want your hot flashes to flare, Cherie. And I’m not quitting, either. I can’t.” I yanked opened the French doors to my second-story deck as lightning zigged and zagged across the night sky through the bubbling, black clouds, the waves of the Pacific Ocean crashing down the hill from my blue cottage. “If I could catch a lightning strike, I’d pitch it at him.”

“It would be thrilling to see that,” Cherie declared. “So vengefully Mother Nature-ish.”

“What a rat.” I shut the doors with a bang, then thought of my other life, the life before this one, and shuddered. I could not go back to it, and I was working as hard as I could to ensure that that wouldn’t happen. There wasn’t enough silk and satin in that other life. There wasn’t any kindness, either. Or softness. “I so want this to end.”

“He’s sadistically stubborn. I have been buried in motions, requests for mediation, time for him to recover from his fake illness, his counseling appointments, attempts to reconcile . . . he’s tried everything. The paperwork alone could reach from Oregon to Arkansas and flip over two bulls and a tractor.”

“That’s what we’re dealing with, Cherie, bull.” I ran a hand through my long, blond, messy hair. It became stuck in a tangle.

“Sure are, sweets.”

“He’s doing this so I’ll come back to him.”

“That’s true. He’s a tenacious, rabid possum.”

“I don’t ever want anything to do with the rabid possum again.” I was so mad, even my bones seemed to ache. Cherie wished me a “happy wedding dress sewing evening,” and I wished her the best of luck being a ferocious attorney who scares the pants off all the male attorneys in Portland and went back to stomping around my studio.

My studio is filled with odd and found things. I need the color and creativity for inspiration for the nontraditional wedding dresses I sew. Weathered, light blue shutters from a demolished house are nailed to a wall. Two-foot-tall pink letters spell out my first name. On a huge canvas, I painted six-foot-tall purple tulips with eyes, smiles, and pink tutus. I propped that painting against a wall next to a collection of mailboxes in the shapes of a pig, elephant, dragon, dog, and monkey. The monkey mailbox scares me.

I dipped a strawberry into melted chocolate and kept stomping about. I eat when I get upset or stressed, and this had not proved to be good for the size of my bottom. Fifteen extra pounds in two years. After only four more strawberries, okay seven, and more pacing, I took a deep breath and tried to wrestle myself away from my past and back into who I am now, who I am trying most desperately to become.

“Remember, June,” I said aloud as my anger and worry surged like the waves of the Oregon coast below me. “You are in your skylighted studio. Not a cold, beige home in the city. You are living amidst stacks of colorful and slinky fabrics, buttons, flowers, faux pearls and gems, and lace. You are not living amidst legal briefs and crammed courtrooms working as an attorney with other stressed- out, maniac attorneys hyped up on their massive egos.”

My tired eyes rested, as they so often did, on my Scottish tartan, our ancestors’ tartan, which I’d hung vertically on my wall. When I’d hung it in our modern home in Portland, he’d ripped it down and hid it from me for a month. “Tacky, June, it’s tacky. We’re not kilt-wearing heathens.”

I am a wedding dress designer in the middle of a soul-crushing divorce. I am a wedding dress designer who will never again marry. I am a wedding dress designer who has about as much faith in marriage as I do that the Oregon coast will never see another drop of rain.

A blast of wind, then a hail of rain pummeled my French doors.

I ate yet another chocolate-covered strawberry. I have been told my eyes are the color of dark chocolate. Not a bad analogy. I washed the strawberry down with lemonade, then ate a carrot.

No, I have no faith in marriage.

None.

It was a bad day. A very bad day. And I knew there were more bad days to come with my ex.

I did not see the wave erupting from the ocean like a sneaky, amphibious water assault. The Oregon coast, stunning and breathtaking, can, infrequently, whip out dangerous waves that arch and stretch and cover anyone in their path with freezing cold water, a bit of foam, and a mouthful of long seaweed. If you are lucky, it will not pull you out to swim with the whales.

But I had committed the cardinal Oregon beach sin: I put my back to the ocean. Never do that.

An hour before, I’d pulled on a raincoat and rain pants and headed out for my usual five-mile “Sanity Walk,” which I do each day to settle my worries. I need to get away from work and my sticky workaholic tendencies, and an overload of him, whom I try not to think about because he contaminates my brain synapses and makes them explode.

Between the raindrops, off in the distance, I could see rays of sun slanting through the clouds, a promise of a reprieve from an early summer rain. To my right, near the rocks and tide pools, I saw a black butterfly shell and turned to pick it up, to see if it was whole, unbroken. I am always searching for whole butterfly shells. I have never found one. The left wing of this shell was halfway broken off...

And boom.

I was soaked and choking as a wave poured down on my head. Another wave knocked me off my feet, then covered me in salt water. I struggled to find my footing, to figure out which way was up, as I fought vainly against the pull of the waves and the freezing cold. My face at one point was planted straight into the sand.

I tried to pinwheel my arms, but that didn’t work. I tried to hit the ocean floor with my feet, but they were tossed up and over my head. I was under a wall of water, heading out into the ocean, a rock scraping my back. The water sucked and spun me out and around, as if I was a black butterfly shell and it was trying to crack me in half.

I tried to breathe and choked, inhaling water, the cold claws of panic paralyzing my mind as I fought against drowning, seawater pouring over me, my head bopping through to air, then churning waves covering it again. I struggled and fought against the undertow, still not sure which way was up.

I felt a hand grab mine.

A hand.

Grabbing mine.

Within a millisecond, I was hauled up as if I weighed no more than a seagull. An arm curled around my waist, and I was thrust up against a wall of steel, the freezing water pouring off my body. A hand pounded my back as I doubled over and indelicately wretched out sea water and, I think, part of a shell, maybe a seahorse or a shark, and sand. I made another gagging sound, more water poured out, that strong arm still linked around my waist as body- freezing water swirled around us. I wretched again.

And again.

I spit out sand, my whole body going into semishock as I shook and shook. Sucking in air with a gurgly, gasping sound, my lungs totally depleted, my legs shaking, my hair glued to my head, I held on tight to the wall of steel as another wave rolled in. The wave receded, as fast as it came, the chilly water circling our thighs.

“It’s okay,” the wall of steel soothed, both arms tight around me. “I got ya. You’re okay.” He hit me on the back again, and once more I released part of the Pacific Ocean. I inhaled again with a jagged breath, vaguely thinking I sounded like a hyperventilating octopus, however that would be.

Seconds, that was what it took. Seconds before my life was suddenly in danger. Seconds after that and I’m being pounded on the back.

“Sorry about that,” the man drawled. “I’ve never hit a woman, but this seems to be an occasion where it might be beneficial.”

I leaned against his chest, arms around his waist, my whole body trembling, and between long strands of sandy, soaked hair, I eyed my rescuer.

He was a giant. I was being rescued by a green giant with blondish wavy hair.

“How ya doing?” he asked, his emerald eyes concerned, brow furrowed. “Can you get enough air?”

I studied those eyes for a minute. Honestly, they were hard to look away from, bright and intense, steady on. “Yes,” I gurgled out, “I have air.” I then leaned over, coughed in a particularly disgusting fashion, and this time spit up seaweed. I dragged one end of it out of my mouth until I had about six inches hanging from my fingers.

“Better now.” My voice was still hoarse, sand crunching between my teeth. “I had not planned on seaweed for lunch.”

“Good.” He still held on to me so I wouldn’t collapse. “I personally prefer clam chowder. Garlic bread. Less green, more flavor.”

Ah. A man with dry humor. If I wasn’t busy spewing out more sand, I would enjoy the verbal sparring. Leaning over again, his arms supporting me, I choked out yet another piece of seaweed and a mouthful of water. “Tastes terrible.”

“Some people eat it with a dash of salt. Me, personally, it has never held appeal at all. At least you didn’t swallow a fish.”

“For that, I am grateful.” I wiped my mouth. I was stunned. Overwhelmed. Two seagulls squawked above. “Thank you very much.”

“You are quite welcome. Any time.”

“Thank you,” I said once again, my teeth now chattering, as he guided me out of the water and onto the sand, an arm still slinked around my waist. He took off his green rain jacket. “Here, take off your jacket, we’ll put this one around you instead.”

“That’s chivalrous, but I’m soaked. You take it. It’ll get wet.” My body jerked as if it was being electrocuted. “Please. Wear it. Let me help you. You’re shaking too much to do it yourself.”

That was true.

He unzipped my jacket and took one of my arms, then the other, both rattling around from cold and shock, and pulled my rain jacket off. He threw his jacket around me, stuck my arms back in, and zipped it up. I was instantly dwarfed by the giant’s jacket. He pulled the hood over my head.

“But you’ll get wet now,” I gasped. “I am not going to get anywhere near as wet as you already are. Please. Wear it.”

He was wearing a blue sweater and I noticed that his chest was flat and the type you could sleep on, not that I would sleep on a man’s chest ever again. No way.

“Thank you. I’m so, so glad you were here.” A sense of utter relief, utter gratefulness flooded over me. Had he not been here, not taken action . . . I could have died. That had not been on my agenda for today. I bit my frozen lip and tried not to cry.

“Happy to be here. I did have to run faster than I’ve ever run in my life, but I’ve got my exercise in. I’m renting a place up the hill, just arrived today, came out for a walk, and saw that huge wave hit you. It came out of nowhere, didn’t it?”

“As if it dropped out of the sky.” I pushed my dripping hair out of my eyes and stared at him, the wind lifting that blondish hair around a supertough and strong-looking jaw and prominent cheekbones. “Good of you to make a run to rescue me.”

He bowed. “My pleasure.”

Those green eyes stared right into mine, as if the drowned rat in front of him was interesting and appealing. I could not look away. The rain sprinkled down, and there we stood, staring at each other. My, how his eyes were a light and wondrous color, bold and sure, as if he wasn’t afraid to look away from life . . . the trustworthy, strong, I have a deeper side to me and I want to know the deeper side of you sort of gaze.

He shook his head, blinked a couple of times, and smiled again, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Wow. Rough and tough and manly. Wow.

“Take off your shirt.”

What? I felt myself prickle under his jacket, a blast of fear shooting through me.

“No, no, no.” He put his hands up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But you’re all zipped up under my jacket. Can you take off the wet clothing on your upper half so you don’t get colder on our walk back?”

“Oh, okay.” That made sense, since I was shivering so spasmodically.

“I’ll turn around to give you some privacy and keep an eye on the ocean while you wriggle out of whatever you can.”

I thought of taking my clothes off in front of this macho he man. One graphic picture jumped into my mind after another, and my breath quickened. Honestly, June. You almost drowned and you’re thinking about getting naked? You haven’t thought about a naked man in over two years.

“Are your hands too cold to do it?” His face creased into worry lines. “No. Yes. No and yes to you.” I coughed. Please, June, don’t embarrass yourself. “I’ll be fine.”

The water off the Oregon coast is so absolutely freezing it hurts your brain, even in summer, but as we stared at each other from inches away, my head tilted back; I felt a blush climbing up my neck.

He blinked again, as if he was somewhat rattled, too, then turned around. I started to strip while sneaking peeks at his backside. Huuuuge shoulders. A solid man, not skinny. Tall, rangy.

I wriggled underneath the jacket, still warm from his manly man heat, and managed to pull my sweater and T-shirt off. I hesitated on my bra, then thought, what the heck. I was going to freeze to death if I didn’t. The rain coming down wasn’t helping. I dropped everything in the sand, stuck my arms through the jacket’s sleeves, then rolled my soaking, sandy clothes into a ball.

“Okay, I’m undressed,” I said, then stopped. Come on, June! Think! Don’t say it that way! “I’m undressed but dressed. I’m dressed in your coat. Not naked undressed.”

He turned around and I could tell he was chuckling on the inside.

About Cathy Lamb:

Cathy Lamb, the author of Julia’s Chocolates, The Last Time I Was Me, and Henry’s Sisters, lives in Oregon. She is married with three children. She writes late at night when it's just her and the moon and a few shooting stars.


About Holly Chamberlin:

CLICK HERE TO READ AN EXCERPT OF THE BEACH QUILT.


Holly Chamberlin was born and raised in New York City. After earning a Master’s degree in English Literature from New York University and working as an editor in the publishing industry for ten years, she moved to Boston, married and became a freelance editor and writer. She and her husband now live in downtown Portland, Maine, in a restored mid-nineteenth-century brick townhouse with Betty, the most athletic, beautiful and intelligent cat in the world. Readers can visit her website at: www.HollyChamberlin.com.


About Lisa Jackson:

Lisa Jackson is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than seventy-five novels, including You Will Pay, After She’s Gone, Close to Home, Tell Me, Deserves to Die, You Don’t Want to Know, Running Scared, and Shiver. She has over thirty million copies of her books in print in nineteen languages. She lives with her family and three rambunctious dogs in the Pacific Northwest. Readers can visit her website at lisajackson.com and find her on Facebook.

Photo Credit: Kimberly Butler Photography


About Rosalind Noonan:

Rosalind Noonan is the New York Times bestselling author of highly acclaimed women’s fiction and domestic suspense novels, including And Then She Was Gone, In A Heartbeat and Pretty, Nasty, Lovely. She is a co-author of the bestselling collaborative novels Sinister and Ominous with Lisa Jackson and Nancy Bush, and she also writes crime novels under the name R. J. Noonan. Rosalind Noonan lives in the Pacific Northwest, where she writes in the shade of some towering two-hundred-year-old Douglas fir trees. Please visit her online at RosalindNoonanBooks.com.

Photo Credit: Sondra Myers


Average Customer Review

Based on 4 reviews


Customer Review

Life is a Beach! (Sunday, September 23, 2012)
Reviewer: Kathy Jund

Slip into a “beach frame of mind” anytime, with Beach Season an omnibus grouping of short stories with a beach flavor. This collaboration contains short stories written by Cathy Lamb, Holly Chamberlain and Rosalind Noonan and contains an extra treat! Also contains to readers delight is a previously published Bantam Loveswept edition from Lisa Jackson, (back in the days of her writing as Susan Crose). As you will read in her “note” to readers is one of her favorite stories! So sit back in your comfortable chair, (alongside the murmur of the waves, optional), and you will find yourself transported to the seaside settings and thoughts of romance these stories inspire. Find yourself swept away by the strong arms of a mysterious stranger along the crashing waves. On the other hand, find yourself caught up in the chance meeting of a so long ago “lost” love. You will also hope to escape the danger and pray to stay hidden from someone whose business it is to find you and will go to any lengths to do so. Finally, the test of true love under unforeseen circumstances will put in perspective what is important against all odds.

“Sand, Surf But Most Importantly Love” (Monday, July 23, 2012)
Reviewer: Nancy Narma

If you’re planning to relax on the sands of some faraway destination or just enjoying the view from your backyard hammock, be sure to tote this volume with you.You will savor the works of four talented authors. In “June’s Lace”, Cathy Lamb introduces us to former attorney/talented-beyond-belief wedding dress designer; June MacKenzie, who, after continually battling with her slime-ball of a husband; Grayson for a divorce, swears she will never get involved with any male again—that is, until a blond-haired, hunky giant of a songwriter named Reece rescues her from drowning while she was hunting for a perfect butterfly shell. He seems kind and understanding, but June has her doubts about him..as well as herself. Meanwhile, her talented staff; Estelle and Leoni (and Leoni’s star-gazing/astronaut-to-be Daughter; Morgan, encourage her to follow her heart. But will Grayson ever give up and agree to the divorce? Or will she lose everything, including the creative, loving woman she is? You’ll love the interaction with her Brother; March, and Sisters; August and September and their “Hippie Parents”. Within the pages of Holly Chamberlin’s “Second Chance Sweethearts”, you’ll meet Thea Foss, who, against the advice of her therapist, escapes her familiar surroundings, not to mention her abusive former Husband; Mark Marais, and takes up residence in the quaint vacation town of Ogunquit, Maine. Thea rents from the extremely intuitive but lonely, Alice Moore and secures a job as a waitress in Maggie’s Diner. Despite ever-present fears, her life begins to take some semblance of order—that is, until the “Love of her Life” from years past; Hugh Landry, arrives on the scene. Will he remember all that they once shared so long ago? Will he be disappointed by the woman she has become? Or she with him? Ms. Chamberlin pulls you to the forefront of Thea’s fears and insecurities of which we may all be able to identify. With “Carolina Summer”, Rosalind Noonan transports you to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We accompany Real Estate Agent, Jane Doyle, as she hurriedly leaves Manhattan with a plan to stay with her Brother; T.J. in Florida. With her thoughts distracted while trying to drive in a torrential downpour, Jane is involved in a collision near the town of Avon. Thoroughly shaken but unhurt, she instinctively thinks the worst—that someone has tried to kill her. Confronted by handsome but wary, Sheriff Cooper Locklear and assisted to safety with Quickstop Market/café owners; Leah and Rusty Mallory, she regains her composure, only to find out her SUV is in need of repair and she must find lodging. A series of coincidences keep Jane and Cooper meeting and getting better acquainted. But he must not find out the real reason for her hasty Southern trip. When a frightening phone call persuades Jane to discontinue her travel plans, she fears for her safety & that of her Brother’s and works her way into a position as a rental cleaning person for a R.E. Agent, keeping a low profile. What or who is she running from? Will Coop open up about Leah? Will Jane find sanctuary in Avon? I know I’d like to read about more adventures in N.C. Perhaps you have already read Lisa Jackson’s classic tale; “The Brass Ring”, but if you haven’t, you’re in for a treat. Dr. Shawna McGuire and former tennis great; Parker Harrison, after a whirlwind courtship, are to be married. Prior to the rehearsal dinner party, the two lovebirds relax as they take in the local “Fair from Yesteryear” complete with a carousel where Parker grabs the brass ring. They come upon a fortune teller’s tent and Shawna has her palm read. She is told she will lose the love of her life. Shaken but not deterred, they revel in their love and enjoy the evening’s celebration. Some, as in Parker’s protégé; Brad Lomax, overindulge and Parker offers to drive him home in the fierce storm raging outside the cozy gathering. The party breaks up and everyone prepares for the morning’s wedding. When Parker doesn’t arrive at the appointed time, his Bride imagines he has changed his mind until authorities arrive with the news that there has been a horrific accident and Parker has been transported to Mercy Hospital. Shawna races to his side, hoping she’s not too late, only to discover he does not remember her or their love. Could the fortune teller have been right? Will she lose her beloved Parker and also a piece of herself? And what about the young, dark-haired stranger named Melinda James? Where or how does she fit into their lives? Or does she? You will enjoy this collection and be wanting more, so make room on your shelf for this one. Nancy Narma

“Sand, Surf But Most Importantly Love” (Monday, July 16, 2012)
Reviewer: Nancy Narma

If you’re planning to relax on the sands of some faraway destination or just enjoying the view from your backyard hammock, be sure to tote this volume with you. You will savor the works of four talented authors. In “June’s Lace”, Cathy Lamb introduces us to former attorney/talented-beyond-belief wedding dress designer; June MacKenzie, who, after continually battling with her slime-ball of a husband; Grayson for a divorce, swears she will never get involved with any male again—that is, until a blond-haired, hunky giant of a songwriter named Reece rescues her from drowning while she was hunting for a perfect butterfly shell. He seems kind and understanding, but June has her doubts about him..as well as herself. Meanwhile, her talented staff; Estelle and Leoni (and Leoni’s star-gazing/astronaut-to-be Daughter; Morgan, encourage her to follow her heart. But will Grayson ever give up and agree to the divorce? Or will she lose everything, including the creative, loving woman she is? You’ll love the interaction with her Brother; March, and Sisters; August and September and their “Hippie Parents”. Within the pages of Holly Chamberlin’s “Second Chance Sweethearts”, you’ll meet Thea Foss, who, against the advice of her therapist, escapes her familiar surroundings, not to mention her abusive former Husband; Mark Marais, and takes up residence in the quaint vacation town of Ogunquit, Maine. Thea rents from the extremely intuitive but lonely, Alice Moore and secures a job as a waitress in Maggie’s Diner. Despite ever-present fears, her life begins to take some semblance of order—that is, until the “Love of her Life” from years past; Hugh Landry, arrives on the scene. Will he remember all that they once shared so long ago? Will he be disappointed by the woman she has become? Or she with him? Ms. Chamberlin pulls you to the forefront of Thea’s fears and insecurities of which we may all be able to identify. With “Carolina Summer”, Rosalind Noonan transports you to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We accompany Real Estate Agent, Jane Doyle, as she hurriedly leaves Manhattan with a plan to stay with her Brother; T.J. in Florida. With her thoughts distracted while trying to drive in a torrential downpour, Jane is involved in a collision near the town of Avon. Thoroughly shaken but unhurt, she instinctively thinks the worst—that someone has tried to kill her. Confronted by handsome but wary, Sheriff Cooper Locklear and assisted to safety with Quickstop Market/café owners; Leah and Rusty Mallory, she regains her composure, only to find out her SUV is in need of repair and she must find lodging. A series of coincidences keep Jane and Cooper meeting and getting better acquainted. But he must not find out the real reason for her hasty Southern trip. When a frightening phone call persuades Jane to discontinue her travel plans, she fears for her safety & that of her Brother’s and works her way into a position as a rental cleaning person for a R.E. Agent, keeping a low profile. What or who is she running from? Will Coop open up about Leah? Will Jane find sanctuary in Avon? I know I’d like to read about more adventures in N.C. Perhaps you have already read Lisa Jackson’s classic tale; “The Brass Ring”, but if you haven’t, you’re in for a treat. Dr. Shawna McGuire and former tennis great; Parker Harrison, after a whirlwind courtship, are to be married. Prior to the rehearsal dinner party, the two lovebirds relax as they take in the local “Fair from Yesteryear” complete with a carousel where Parker grabs the brass ring. They come upon a fortune teller’s tent and Shawna has her palm read. She is told she will lose the love of her life. Shaken but not deterred, they revel in their love and enjoy the evening’s celebration. Some, as in Parker’s protégé; Brad Lomax, overindulge and Parker offers to drive him home in the fierce storm raging outside the cozy gathering. The party breaks up and everyone prepares for the morning’s wedding. When Parker doesn’t arrive at the appointed time, his Bride imagines he has changed his mind until authorities arrive with the news that there has been a horrific accident and Parker has been transported to Mercy Hospital. Shawna races to his side, hoping she’s not too late, only to discover he does not remember her or their love. Could the fortune teller have been right? Will she lose her beloved Parker and also a piece of herself? And what about the young, dark-haired stranger named Melinda James? Where or how does she fit into their lives? Or does she? You will enjoy this collection and be wanting more, so make room on your shelf for this one.
Nancy Narma

beach season (Thursday, May 31, 2012)
Reviewer: jbarr

Beach Season by Lisa Jackson and 3 others
June's Lace by Cathy Lamb<br>
June is going through a divorce but he wants half of her new wedding dress business. She is so distraught she heads down to the beach and she turns her back on a wave. It's raining and she falls under and an arm stretches to reach her. Reece is only renting a house for 8 weeks and he sees to it that she goes to get checked out at the hospital. They have a survivors lunch for a few dates and she finds out he is staying right next door to her house. She has to sell that and give half to Grayson or he wants 1/2 of the business. June concentrates on her sisters: August and September, they each keep a journal of things to worry about and compare them with each other. Love reading about her design work and the process she uses. She is taken aback of what Reece does for a living and he's very sensitive when she tells him about her life, marriage and now the divorce and he feels like she's been let down for too long. He just uses simple things to get to her: flowers, french toast on the deck one night for dinner, finding her the perfect unbroken butterfly shell. Love also that this is located in Oregon as we have visited there a few times on our trek out west, so beautiful. Such devotion to family, traditions and legends and what they symbolize.<P>
Second Chance Sweethearts by Holly Chamberlin<BR>
Thea Foss, divorced has left and traveled to a resort town near Wells, Maine, rents an apartment for several months and loses herself in the town activities. As a waitress to keep busy she's run into her old college boyfriend, Hugh Landry and they share several meals together and have other dates and just remember their whole lives together. She talks to her landlady Alice when she shows up with fresh baked goodies. After their long talks they figure out why they had split up before-who had caused it and each is forgiving and they fell they still have enough time in their lives to try it again. What's to say the people who split them up before just won't do it again... but something else stands in their way. Love the locale of the lighthouses, blueberry picking, beaches, just walking around parks
<P>Carolina Summer by Rosamind Noonan<BR>
Jane Doyle has left the city on her way south to visit with her brother in FL. She's made it past Virginia and he's talked her into heading to the outer banks in NC where he has a friend that runs the hotel. She's within an hour there and the rain downpour starts and she gets rear ended. The local sheriff is able to talk her out of the jeep that she's rented. She finds out her brother, TJ, his friend has relocated to Myrtle Beach. The doctor and others talk her into staying at the local motel for the night, she walks around a bit and in the morning will say goodbye to them all on her way further south. Problem is somebody is looking for her and has contacted her brother so she has to go into hiding. She rents a place and the sheriff is her landlord and she's happy that she will have protection so close by. She opens up to Cooper and he tells her of his past. Love this book because of the location, never been and have always wanted to after reading Nights in Rodanthe. New thing for me is the windsurfing lessons.<P>
The Brass Ring by Lisa Jackson<BR>
Parker Harrison is about to be married to the girl of his dreams. Night before they are at a carnival and he gets the brass ring while on the ride, also a fortune teller states that Shawna will lose him. The day of the wedding and it's just about time when her brother, Jake comes in stating there had been an accident the night before. Parker had left to drive Brad home. Parker was the tennis coach for Brad. Shawna McGuire has everything planned. Not only medical problems but other people. Love this story for the location of Portland, Oregon.


Write a Review