Skip to main content

Second Chance Spring (Seasons in Singletree) by Delancey Stewart




Title: Second Chance Spring
Series: Seasons in Singletree #4
Author: Delancey Stewart
Genre: Small Town Romantic Comedy
Release Date: April 1, 2020



Blurb

Paige Tanner grew up in the small town of Singletreeā€”but she knows she has to leave to find what she really wants. Singletree might have other plans for herā€¦

I did everything rightā€”got engaged to my high school boyfriend, stayed faithful through college and med school, came home and got married. That was how Iā€™d always thought my life would go. What I didnā€™t realize was that my husband wasnā€™t super clear on that whole monogamy thing.

Yeah.

Finding myself over thirty and divorced, living in the same small town where I grew up, I realized I needed a new plan. So I took action. I landed a job with a bigger practice in a big city where Iā€™ll find more opportunities at work, and hopefully in my social life. I was ready to move on.

But when Cormac Whitewood and his adorable daughters come into my life, suddenly my big plans donā€™t seem so shiny and exciting. Suddenly, Iā€™m finding myself drawn to the lonely widower, wishing for more time with himā€”even though he seems to have a strange fascination with exotic taxidermy. I can overlook a lot for a pair of deep golden eyes and strong broad shoulders.

The thing is, Cormacā€™s made it clear he isnā€™t over his late wifeā€”and Iā€™d never force my way into someone elseā€™s family. And Iā€™ve already made my plans.

So why do they feel so wrong?


Second Chance Spring is a full-length novel with an HEA about second chances, spring, and taxidermy. Okay, not really. Itā€™s about the plans life makes for you while youā€™re busy making plans for yourself, and itā€™s full of snort laughs, touching moments, cake, and maybe a kangaroo or two. 







Purchase Links

99c for a limited time!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited





Excerpt

ā€œHow are you, Mom?ā€ 
She crossed her arms and swayed a bit, turning back and forth like a little girl. ā€œGood, Cormacā€™s been keeping me company lately. Such a nice man.ā€ 
ā€œHe is,ā€ I confirmed. I wanted to say something else, but didnā€™t know quite what, so instead, I asked for a pumpkin muffin. ā€œAnd tea,ā€ I finished. 
ā€œActually,ā€ Mom said, a little sparkle coming into her eye. ā€œCome back here. I need your help with something.ā€ She bustled toward the swinging door separating the kitchen from the shop. 
ā€œYou want me in the kitchen?ā€ I asked, coming around the counter. I hadnā€™t been planning on helping out with baking, but I guessed I could. I helped sometimes when things got busy or if Mom was baking for a special occasion. I glanced longingly at the pumpkin muffins, all orange and plump behind the glass, and then followed my mother. 
ā€œYes, and oh, you know, Iā€™m going to need another opinion too.ā€ She pushed past me again, leaving me standing in the kitchen before a long metal table full of little plates with cookies and muffins cut into fourths all lined up. Sheā€™d clearly been planning this, and I wondered if sheā€™d sprung into action, formulating her plan the second Iā€™d texted her that I might stop by. 
A moment later, she was dragging a confused-looking Cormac through the swinging door and pushing him to stand at my side. She went around the other side of the table and grinned at us both. ā€œI need you to taste test a few things,ā€ she said, and she wrung her hands dramatically. ā€œI just canā€™t decide which of these I should offer as my Cherry Blossom special.ā€ 
Cormac laughed, a hint of discomfort in his voice. ā€œWhatā€™s the Cherry Blossom special?ā€ 
I turned to face him, swallowing hard before I was able to speak as the full force of his presence hit me. ā€œMom makes a big deal out of the annual Cherry Blossom festival. She bakes like ninety cakes for the cakewalk, and she always makes a special cookie or muffin for the week of the festival.ā€ 
ā€œSo these are all cherry-themed?ā€ Cormac asked, pointing at the assorted baked goods. 
Mom clapped her hands. ā€œExactly!ā€ But then she frowned. ā€œBut theyā€™re not all cherry flavored,ā€ she clarified. ā€œLike this one is chocolate hazelnut because I have it on good authority that George Washington enjoyed a nice bit of Nutella now and then. You know he cut down a cherry tree.ā€ 
ā€œUm,ā€ Cormac said, and it seemed he might be about to question my motherā€™s ā€˜good authorityā€™ about that Nutella thing. 
ā€œBest not to ask,ā€ I suggested, leaning close to him with a stage whisper. 
Mom shot me a narrow-eyed gaze, but then went on. ā€œSo the Washington cookie is here. This one is a cherry-vanilla blondie. This one here is the cherry crumb muffin, and that one is a Kahlua cookie.ā€
ā€œKahlua, Mom? Whatā€™s the cherry relationship there?ā€ I asked. 
She shrugged. ā€œI had a bit of Kahlua back here for inspiration. I spilled a cup into the first batch, but they were so good, I went with it.ā€ 
ā€œYou drink Kahlua while youā€™re working?ā€ Cormac asked, grinning.
ā€œItā€™s my bakery,ā€ Mom said. ā€œI do what I want.ā€ 
Cormac burst out laughing at that. ā€œAs you should,ā€ he told her. 
ā€œOkay, Iā€™m leaving you to it. Come out and tell me which one wins when youā€™re done.ā€ 
And then Cormac and I were alone, faced with a long table of baked goods and my motherā€™s obvious and embarrassing attempts at matchmaking. 
ā€œIf you need to get going, you totally donā€™t have to do this. Sheā€™s a little bit ā€¦ manipulative.ā€ 
He laughed again, the sound rolling through me like warm sand churning under gentle waves. ā€œI like baked goods, actually. And I like your mom.ā€ 
ā€œShe means well,ā€ I agreed, looking up at him to find those gold eyes on me. I cleared my throat as heat rose to my cheeks. ā€œSheā€™s just always trying so hard ā€¦ā€ 
ā€œTo ā€¦?ā€
I couldnā€™t hold his eyes, so I picked up a piece of Washington cookie instead. I popped a piece in my mouth and then said, ā€œto set me up.ā€ I hoped the muffled words would be enough of an answer for Cormac to drop it and that he might have the grace to pretend heā€™d understood me. What Iā€™d said had sounded a lot more like, ā€œoo fett be aaa.ā€ 
He picked up a piece of muffin and shoved it between his lips and then mimicked me, saying, ā€œIā€™m sorry, I didnā€™t get that last part.ā€ But his words were closer to, ā€œI arrrey, I ninny ett aa ass mar.ā€ 
I burst out laughing, bringing my hand to my mouth to keep from spitting cookie, and was relieved when Cormacā€™s shoulders shook to match mine, both of us laughing over a childish joke. But it took off the edge. 
ā€œSheā€™s always trying to set me up,ā€ I said, my mouth clear now. 
He looked down at the table and then glanced at me sideways, that little smile lifting one side of his mouth again and sending my heart racing. ā€œYour mom is trying to set you up with me?ā€ 
Oh man, this was embarrassing. ā€œYeah. But you can just ignore it. She does this all the time.ā€ I popped a piece of cherry vanilla muffin in my mouth and chewed, leaning against the table. ā€œSheā€™s worried Iā€™ll die old and alone, since my marriage failed.ā€ He might as well know I was a withering divorcee, if he didnā€™t already.
ā€œOh, Iā€™m sorry,ā€ he said, looking back up at me. ā€œI didnā€™t realize youā€™d been married.ā€ 
ā€œMy husband also pretty much had no idea he was married,ā€ I told him, having long since moved past the hurt that came with Adamā€™s unfaithfulness. 
ā€œOh no,ā€ Cormac said, trying not to laugh. 
ā€œYeah, it didnā€™t go all that well. Iā€™m better off.ā€ I shrugged. 
For a minute, we just tasted cookies and muffins, comparing our opinions of each. And then, Cormac turned to face me again. 
ā€œWell, for the record,ā€ he said, not quite meeting my eye. ā€œIf I were in a position to be set up, this would definitely have worked.ā€ 
It felt like the breath was sucked out of my lungs. What had I expected? That my motherā€™s ridiculous scheming would actually work? Of course, he had a girlfriend or something. ā€œYouā€™re not, though,ā€ I said. It was only kind of a question. ā€œIn a position like that,ā€ I clarified.
ā€œI wish I were,ā€ he said, and I almost believed him, based on the wistful tone of his voice. 
I looked at my neighbor then, allowing my appreciation for his charm, his rugged good looks, and his clear affinity for family to color my voice. ā€œI kind of wish you were too,ā€ I said.



Also Available


99c for a limited time!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



99c for a limited time!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



99c for a limited time!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






Author Bio


Delancey Stewart is an award-winning author who writes fiction with humor, heart and heat!

Get the first book in her new sports rom-com series -- MR. MATCH -- absolutely free by joining her newsletter here:
https://www.subscribepage.com/delanceystewart



Author Links

WEBSITE
FACEBOOK
TWITTER
NEWSLETTER
INSTAGRAM

#NewRelease #KindleUnlimited
*Excerpt*
#smalltown #romanticcomedy #daleanceystewart #onsale #99cents
 @GiveMeBooksPR and @DelanceyStewart

Comments