Fed up with winter and dreaming of getting away from it all? You’re not the only one! The latest Dreamspinner anthology is a collection of stories set around holidays (that’s vacations, to the US peeps among you, not the “holidays” involving the big guy in red *g*):
Blurb: A vacation is exactly what these men need to find love in their lives. It may be about looking for a little fun, gaining a fresh perspective after a breakup, or building up the nerve to take the plunge. Whether they travel by plane, train, or automobile, none of them want to go it alone. They’re hoping romance will be the ticket to finding paradise in another man’s arms.
Released today in ebook and paperback, Two Tickets to Paradise contains my story, All at Sea:
Josh feels all at sea on the Isle of Wight. He’d rather be living it up in Ibiza, dancing until all hours, and maybe meeting the man of his dreams. What chance has he got of getting lucky with his newly-single mum and little sisters in tow? Things seem to be looking up when a gorgeous boatman with a way with words invites Josh out. But even love on an island isn’t always plain sailing.
About the story:
Writing this was quite a nostalgia-fest for me! I grew up on the Isle of Wight, and passed the boating lake on my way to school each day. Both my brother and I had summer jobs there—although while he got to work on his tan pulling in boats, I was cooped up inside the cafe, serving up cups of tea and waging war on the ants that tried to invade our cream doughnuts. The story is set in 1993—and heh, I’m not telling you how much later than my time there that was!
A tiny snippet:
The boats for hire, a mix of paddle boats and rowing boats, were all lined up along one side of the lake, next to a little hut where they took the money. And when I say they, I mean he. God, he was gorgeous. Tall—taller than me—and lean, not skinny, with short dark hair that fluffed up on top and rippled in the breeze that was blowing in off the sea.
He had a voice like honey on pancakes, which he was using to full effect to drum up trade. “Roll up, roll up! Get your top-of-the range self-powered floating conveyances here!”
Laurie giggled and tugged on my sleeve. “Josh, why’s he saying that?”
“He means we can hire a paddle boat here,” I said with only about one percent of my attention on my little sister and the rest firmly fixed on the vision standing by the boathouse. He turned and smiled as he saw me staring, and I felt like ice cream melting under the hot chocolate fudge sauce of his gaze.
“This way, please, ladies and gent! Now, if I can just remind you: swimming in the lake is strictly prohibited, as is attempting to drown younger—or older—siblings, no matter how much they may be asking for it.” He winked at me as he said that, and I almost fell in the water.
***