Well, hello! I hope you’re all having fantastic weekends and enjoying March Madness!



I’m hard at work on the third book in my CINDERELLA series, though it’s going a bit slower than I’d like now that I’m also working my first big girl job, but I thought I’d share a quick excerpt with you from Holly and Doan’s story:



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I’m almost to the chorus when I hear a knock at my door. I ignore it and keep singing when it sounds again, louder and more persistent this time. With a groan, I put my guitar down on the bed and walk over to the door, expecting to see Dad or Justin standing there, wanting me to come down to the pool again.
Instead, I jump back immediately as Doan leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his bare chest. He’s wearing just a pair of bright blue swim trunks and flip flops.
“I didn’t know you were a singer,” he says.
I swallow hard. He must’ve just come out of the pool; there are still some water droplets clinging to the muscles on his tanned arms and pecs.
“Uh,” I say, shaking my head, trying to regain my composure. Doan, of all people, isn’t going to affect me. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He smirks. “Well, now, that isn’t true. I know you don’t want to live in Arizona, don’t really like your dad and that you’re pretty cute when you’re all riled up around me.”
My nostrils flare. Justin always used to say that was a dead giveaway that I’m either about to let someone have it, or lie.
I’m not sure which one is in play right now with Doan.
“You don’t rile me up,” I say.
Lying it is.



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