In almost four years, things change. In 2017, I had just gone full-time as a reporter at the Neosho Daily News, my husband – although on disability – was managing well and doing small chores around the house, my son was a sophomore in high school and my daughters were in college. I’d been publishing fiction since 2010 at that point and when “Still Waters Run Deeper” came out that October, I had no clue that is would be the last title for a long dry spell. Since I don’t own a crystal ball and though I am, at times, fey, I had no notion of what changes were coming.
Days after that novel appeared from Evernight Publishing, my husband’s health took a sharp downturn. In November, he had the first of four surgeries and by May, he no longer could live at home. In those six months, he spent time at four different hospitals, then five. He spent time at two long-term care facilities, the last of which was Seneca House. That became his last address on this earth.
So fast forward – I became the sole reporter, then the only member of the news team for not one but two newspapers, then editor and reporter for the same. I not only wrote and took photographs but also put together the editions and much more, working 50 plus hour weeks. I became a widow – my daughters received their degrees from the local community college and my son graduated from high school. Then the pandemic hit and I worked from home from March until December 1, 2020. That’s when the voluntary separation agreement I signed took effect.
But
through all of it, sometimes more than other, I was still writing fiction. It’s
harder than you might think to change between news and fiction, however.
It took me years to get that first acceptance and to see my novels, novellas,
short stories and more find an audience.
And now, I am back.
On June 8, a Tuesday, my first fiction in almost four years will be available from Evernight Publishing. Like some of my other works, it’s part of their Romance On The Go line.
Without any more fanfare or ado – here’s the details for The Cure For Love!
I think you’re going to like Finn Teague – I think readers will enjoy the heat and the love between Finn and Corrie despite their difference in age and I believe most of us would adore living in a castle like Finn’s!
Blurb: He’s dark, handsome, Irish, and he values his privacy.
She’s half his age, a would-be writer seeking an interview to boost her career.
When Corrie Delaney knocks on the door of the bestselling author’s private castle, she’s surprised when Finn Teague himself opens the door. And she’s stunned to find he’s not reclusive or ancient but a vital and sexy man.
She brought her notebook, camera, and tape recorder but instead of an interview, he kissed her, proving the attraction was mutual.
Corrie is willing to see where this passion may lead until he asks her to marry him – a fast step she’s not quite ready to consider, even after he tells her why.
Is the cure for love marriage or should she run while she still can?
Excerpt:
“Have you no patience, woman?” he asked, his brogue as Irish as if he’d come straight from the Emerald Isle. “Haven’t you eyes to see how big this place is and consider it might take more than a minute to answer the door?”
His lyrical voice captured her attention. He had to be in his mid-50’s, maybe even a bit older, Corrie thought, but he possessed a man energy that drew her. His once black hair was dusted with a bit of grey, but his eyes were a vivid blue. He’d remained lean and trim. OMG, he’s still sexy, she thought as her nipples tightened in response to the sheer sexuality he exuded.
“I thought you’d have staff,” she said.
“And why would someone as eccentric as myself have servants, tell me that,” he said. Although annoyed, she thought he might be a little amused, too. “So, tell me, is it Avon you’re selling? Raffle tickets? Or collecting for some fund or another?”
“None of the above, Mr. Teague.”
“God in heaven, don’t call me that—it makes me sound like I’m ninety years old with one foot in the grave. Call me Finn but tell me what it ‘tis you want.”
Truth time, but should she just blurt out that she sought an interview? Corrie hesitated, wondering how to introduce the idea without causing him to slam the heavy door in her face.
“I’m Corrie Delaney,” she said. “And…”
“Aren’t you called Cordelia?” Finn asked. “Is that not what your bylines in the wee local paper say?”
He knew her name and that shocked her speechless. More than that, he knew she was a writer.
“Yes.”
“Then use your full name,” he said. “I suppose you’ve come to beg an interview with me. Is that right?”
Corrie figured she had about two minutes before he asked her to leave, but she’d take the tiny chance he might agree.
“I have,” she said. “Will you give me an interview and let me take photos? It would be positive for both of us—I get the chance for a career making story and you get the exposure.”
His lips shifted into a grin and he laughed. “Love, that’s the opposite of what I want, but come in, we’ll talk about the possibility.”
She forgot to breathe as he swung the door wide and stepped back to let her enter. Knees knocking, Corrie walked into the entrance hall and stopped short. Straight ahead, an ornate mahogany staircase climbed upward. After the first ten steps, it curved right in a graceful arc to the second-floor hallway. Sunshine streamed through stained glass windows. Marble pillars added an air of elegance. The hall was probably larger than her apartment and she couldn’t help but gape at the Victorian opulence.
“Stop gawking and go into the main library,” Finn said.
Corrie walked through double doors into a large room. The walls were lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, but at the front a series of bay windows overlooked the ocean across the street. A variety of vintage chairs and couches were placed to catch both the light and view, an ideal place to read. She perused the rows of books, everything from vintage leather-bound volumes that she guessed would be worth some serious money to shelves filled with Finn Teague’s novels in various editions and even languages. Her fingers caressed the spines of the books with awe. If she had the opportunity, Corrie would enjoy settling down to read in the beautiful space.
“I take it you’re a reader,” he said.
She turned back to Finn. “I am. Most writers are.”
“True, true. And you’ve read my wee books then?”
His novels were anything but small, she thought with a silent laugh. They were behemoths, running anywhere from 500 or 600 pages to 1200. Each one would make a mini-series, not a movie.
“I have.”
He settled onto an antique sofa with rolled arms, a lovely piece that could have come from Queen Victoria’s palace and for all she knew did.
“Come, have a seat.”
Corrie sat on the opposite end of the more than seven feet long sofa and faced him.
“Is this an antique?
“Does it look like anything the 21st century could create?” Finn said with a blend of sarcasm and sadness. “Of course, it’s antique, a ghrá. Relax, though, you’re not going to break it just sitting there. So, tell me, is that why you want an interview, you’ve read my books and you’re a fan?”
She had and was, but that wasn’t the reason why.
“That’s a part of it,” Corrie replied. “The honest answer, though, is that I need to make some money and a feature about you is something I could sell to a bigger market.”
His blue eyes narrowed as he smiled. “A woman who speaks truth. I admire that, I do.”
“So, you’ll give me the interview?”
Finn steepled his hands together and rested his chin on them. “I might, at that.”
At least he hadn’t said no. Corrie hadn’t brought her camera or recorder or even a notebook so hopefully he wouldn’t want to do it today.
“My schedule is flexible,” she told him. “I’m available whenever it would be convenient for you.”
Finn moved closer to her and Corrie swore she could feel his heat. “I’m finishing up a book at the moment, should have it ready for edits in a week, maybe two. Although you haven’t asked, it’s a book based on Ireland’s long struggle for freedom.”
Corrie knew the ancient legend. “Like in ‘The Wind That Shakes The Barley’ or ‘The Rising of the Moon’?
He grinned at her like she was a prize pupil. “Aye, that’s right. But then, you are a Delaney, so you’d have some Irish roots?”
“My granny was from Keady in County Armagh.”
“I was born in Armagh City, but you likely know that.”
She hesitated. His manner confused her a bit—from almost hostile when he first answered the door to acting the almost gracious host, he’d shifted, and she wondered why.
“I’d heard,” she said with fake sweetness. “We could set a date and time for an interview.”
Finn had risen and headed for the door, but he paused. “Well, about that, woman … I’ve an idea although I’m not at all sure you’ll like it.”
If she could get the interview, Corrie would do almost anything. She’d never slept with anyone so much older, but since Finn had proved to be sexy if annoying, she might go that far.
“Try me.”
He held out one hand to her and she rose to take it, curious.
Finn’s grasp was firm as he pulled her to him. Without warning, he locked his arms around her and kissed her, his mouth demanding, lips fever hot. Lust flamed through her body, wicked and yet sweeter than vintage wine. Her body awoke to his touch, to his mouth, as desire sent tingles through her veins. Her nipples tightened beneath the t-shirt like ripe fruit as a delicious dizziness swept her senses. Corrie rested her hands on his chest and let the sensations overwhelm her senses.
The kiss lasted an eternity and not long enough. When Finn removed his mouth, Corrie trembled like a late autumn leaf in a winter wind. She leaned against him, savoring his body against hers and aware of his stiff cock.
“Is that your idea?” she asked. “If so, what’s not to like?”
Purchase links:
https://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-cure-for-love-by-lee-ann-sontheimer-murphy/
https://www.amazon.com/Cure-Love-Lee-Sontheimer-Murphy-ebook/dp/B096TBHN6D/
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