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I’m so excited to share the cover for
Property Sisters of Montana, Book II: MEET ME IN MONTANA!
Isn’t it gorgeous?

She’s looking at her big picture…in Montana

Who swaps a golden parachute in the Bay Area for a share in a Montana thrift store and pipe dream flipping homes with her two sisters? Ambitious former investment rep Amber McCall who’s never abandoned her dream of a career in design. After working as an apprentice under Trey Brandel to stage the Property Sisters’ first project, Amber wants it all – creative career, babies, and forever love with the man of her dreams. Only Mr. Right has one foot out the door.

His sights are set on his dream job…in the Big Apple

Magazine editor and skilled designer Trey Brandel finally has it all – a job at his father’s prestigious art and design magazine, a chance to reconnect with the man he barely knows, and the “big city life” he missed since his parents divorced. His time in Montana was temporary – helping his mom recover – but Amber is impossible to forget.

Is he making the worst mistake of his life by walking away?

Pre-order MEET ME IN MONTANA now!
Release Date: May 19, 2020

Amazon | B&N | Kobo | Apple Books
Coming soon to Google Play


Are you ready for a snippet?
There’s a “natural thermal hot spring” involved…

MEET ME IN MONTANA Excerpt
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

       Seven or eight minutes later, he jogged into the cabin grounds. “I love your father,” he called as he approached the back of the cabin.
       “Awkward. He and my mother have been married for thirty-five years—give or take.”
       He followed the sound of her voice to the rock surround and black abyss. Her short dark hair was wet, slicked back and shiny. Her bare shoulders told him all he needed to know. He pulled his thick cotton sweater over his head, nearly taking the headlamp with it.
       “So, maybe I should have said, ‘I love your father’s headlamp’?”
       She clapped her approval. A crisp, wet sound. “Better.”
       He kicked off his shoes. “How’s the water?”
       “Heavenly. A little hot at first, so I turned on the gravity feed hose to add a bit of cool water. I think it’s perfect now.”
       “I’ll be right in. Where are the towels?”
       “Draped over the back of the bench. You can feel your way to the edge from there. I suggest letting your feet and legs hang in the water for a minute or two, so it’s not quite such a shock to your system.”
       He finished stripping down, dumped his clothes and the headlamp on the bench, and then wrapped a towel around his waist—more to have something to sit on than from modesty.
       “Can you see anything?”
       “A few stars. And I think there’s an alarm in the car. I spot a red light every once in awhile. If you’re worried about flashing me, don’t be. The steam makes modesty a bit passé.”
       He wasn’t a prude, but the only person he’d been naked with in a hot tub had been a girl he’d seriously considered marrying . . . until she decided to go back to college in Chicago. Their relationship had fizzled, as had every long-distance relationship he’d ever heard about. Which made it hard to explain why he was here . . . with Amber . . . feeling a connection he truly couldn’t quantify with any sort of reason or rationale.
       He approached the edge of the pool like a blind person, slowly feeling his way with his toes. When he reached the rim, he lowered himself carefully so he didn’t pitch forward and crash into Amber. From the sound of her voice, he had a sense she was to his right—on the house-side of the pool.
       “Ooh, you’re right,” he said when his feet touched the water. “Hot. But not scalding.”
       He swished his legs back and forth, making a bit of splashing noise. “I have a question I want to ask you. It came to me when I was thinking about being mauled by bears.”
       “Eek. That would have really ruined the night for me. I’m glad you made it back safely. What do you want to ask?”
       “Are you seriously considering quitting your job and moving back to Montana to become a designer?”
       “Yes and no. Yes, I definitely plan to give notice the moment I feel certain Jerry and Ben can complete the restructuring without one or both having a stroke. But I’m not banking on the design thing exclusively.”
       “Really? What else do you have in mind?”
       He undid his towel and scooted forward to gradually ease into the water.
       “Well, that depends . . . on whether or not I can talk your mother into taking me on as a partner in Baubles.”
       His foot touched bottom but slid on something slimy, and he might have sunk like a rock, if a hand hadn’t reached out to provide an anchor. He caught his balance and blinked, finally focusing on what he could see. Amber. Just inches away. “Are you serious?”
       She nodded, turning his shoulders to guide him toward where she’d been sitting a moment before. “There’s a natural bench. It runs about two-thirds of the way around the space. The deep end comes up to my shoulders, but this side is pretty benign.”
       The tension in his muscles slowly melted from the heat.
       “You told me you’re a planner. When did buying an interest in Baubles make it onto your agenda?”
       She didn’t answer right away. “Probably since the first day we met. You hinted that the place might be for sale and my mind went a little gaga. You could say it was love at first sight.”
       Love at first sight. He knew she didn’t mean that the way it sounded, but his heart still gave a funny little leap that he couldn’t quite explain or ignore. “Well, I don’t know if this means anything, but when it comes to design, overthinking is highly overrated. If I’d been grading your first designs, I’d probably have given you a C. Do you know why? Predictability. Your first sketches were too safe. Once we got on the floor at Baubles, I could see ideas bubbling up that you’d never considered. Once you stopped overthinking and went with your gut, those picks paid off big-time. Your family is going to be impressed at the Open House.”
       That event was scheduled for this coming Sunday—around the same time he’d be meeting Dad and Azura for brunch at some trendy bistro with impossible-to-get reservations. His father was a foodie before there was a word for it.
       “You really think so?”
       “I do.”
       “I wish you weren’t leaving. I’d feel so much better if you were at my side during the opening.”
       He reached out and touched the tip of his finger to her chin. “But this way, you can blame me for anything that doesn’t work.”
       “I wouldn’t.”
       “I know. It’s why I l . . . like you so much.”
       He didn’t want to believe he’d almost substituted another L-word for “like,” but he wasn’t a liar. He cared about her in a way he hadn’t seen coming. Pleasure? Yes. Flirting and dallying with a hint of romance also worked. But falling in love at the wrong time and place was more than inconvenient, it bordered on asinine. “Did you say something about dessert?”

Pre-order MEET ME IN MONTANA here!

Last week’s Q&A wasHave you ever been to San Francisco? YES or NO?

I was happy to hear a great many of you had visited the City by the Bay and many others hoped to visit someday. It’s a great city to be a tourist in—so many iconic spots to visit!

I will be IN San Francisco when this newsletter reaches your inbox. Here’s a quick video from last year. I hope to explore some new neighborhoods this trip because we’ve moved the conference to a different hotel.

My two randomly selected winners this week are:

Lori R – YES
and
Brittanie Wardlow – NO

(Lori and Brittanie congrats. Please email me your pick of either a $5 Starbucks or a $5 Amazon gift card.)

Q&A

This week’s Q&A: Have you ever felt an earthquake? YES or NO?

I’m not expecting one, but the question seems appropriate given where I’ll be. 😉

(Two winners will be chosen by random drawing to receive either a $5 Starbucks gift card or a $5 Amazon gift card. Please reply the usual ways: email or on my DebraSalonenAuthor Facebook page.)

Happy reading,

Deb

Next week: more San Francisco photos, and it might time to check out what’s on The Cutting Room Floor. Seriously, what was I thinking? .

 

 

Copyright © 2020 Debra Salonen

www.debrasalonen.com

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