Notes
and Roses
Stanford
Creek
Book
One
Rozenn
Scott
Genre: Contemporary romance
Publisher: All Romance eBooks
Date of Publication: June 1, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-943576-83-8
Number of pages: 255
Word Count: 62000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill
Book Description:
It’s
time to stop running and take a stand…for love.
Former boy-band singer CJ Taylor
is starting a new life. His stalker is behind bars, he’s taken back his birth
name, and he’s bought a house in a small Vermont town. As Cody Brennan, he finally
feels safe and wants to write new music and forget about his tragic past, but
an accident nearly ruins everything.
Florist Megan Campbell is
horrified when a stranger, covered in blood, collapses in her shop. Cody’s
erratic behavior startles her at first, but as he recovers she becomes very
attracted to him. Her family thinks she should curb her feelings, and worries
about her safety—she worries about her heart.
From her amber eyes to her
tempting smile, Megan is everything Cody promised himself to avoid. The more he
gets to know her, the more he wants to stay. When his past begins to catch up
to him in the form of violent threats, will they stay safe long enough to fall
in love?
Excerpt:
Megan Campbell
stepped away from the cash register of Notes & Roses and leaned against the
back counter. She put her right hand in her jeans pocket and, as carefully and
unobtrusively as possible, removed her cell phone and scrolled to Justin’s
name. What should she text her brother? Help sounded like a good start. Or
possibly, there’s a man in my shop and I think he’s drunk or stoned.
Yep, text
something like that to Justin, and he would come in guns blazing. Then he’d pin
the weird guy to the floor and read him his rights. And the man currently
staring at a wall didn’t look dangerous, just lost. Homeless, maybe?
Something more
specific then, like, there is a vagrant in here, and he needs help, what should
I do? The man moved a little. Away from her side of the store, the “roses” part
of the setup, and over to the “notes” side. He was peering at the shelves, a
collection of stationery and household bits and pieces like cushions and local
crafts. He stumbled a little, turned to the side, and looked up at the posters
displayed on the far wall. Landscapes of Vermont: rivers, small towns and red
high-sided barns with gently rolling hills of emerald green.
“That’s wrong,”
he said.
“Sorry?” Megan
asked—but he didn’t reply.
He’s talking to
the wall now. Should she add that to the text as well? This was going to end up
being a hell of a lot of typing to explain what he was doing. Despite how odd
it all looked, the visitor wasn’t threatening her. Also, Rachel would be back
soon. Maybe between them they could sort this out?
He hadn’t even
spoken to her, but something wasn’t right. Maybe it was the way he’d been
standing, his hands fisted at his sides, staring now at the new Valentine’s
wall display of flowers and hearts. Maybe it was the way he was dressed; dark
jeans caked in mud, heavy boots that had tracked in the same mud. Not to
mention the black hoodie with the hood partially hiding his face from her view.
Or maybe it was
the despair in his hunched shoulders, the utter defeat in the way he had to
support himself to stand.
Whatever it was,
Megan was faced with two options. Talk to the strange man in her shop while she
was alone in here, or call in reinforcements in case things went south.
Her visitor
moved, not his feet but his fists, unclenching and bringing his hands up to
knuckle his eyes and then cover them. Megan’s cop brother liked to explain
these things to her, but she didn’t need his help to recognize when despair in
someone turned to anger.
She sent the
standard 911 text, startled when she looked up and saw the stranger had stepped
closer to her while she’d been distracted.
“Where am I?” he
asked, his voice very soft.
“You’re in my
shop.”
He shook his
head. “I need the music. Someone took it, and I need it.”
Okay, this was
so not going the way she wanted it to go. He was incoherent. Maybe he was
homeless and needed a place to get out of the persistent snow that had plagued
Stanford Creek the last few days. He’d evidently been somewhere slushy and
muddy, if his clothes were anything to go by.
“I don’t
understand, sir; what music do you need?” she asked, and waited for him to
acknowledge her question. Instead, he took another, shaky, step forward, and
covered his eyes again. “Hello? Can I help you?” she repeated when he didn’t
look at her.
That finally got
his attention. His hands came down, and she got her first clear look at his
eyes and face. What she saw had her reaching to send another text. He had blood
on him, smeared down from his temple into his wild beard, and his blue eyes
were bright with something. Drugs maybe? Long, dark hair hid some of his
features, and he looked like he was about to keel over.
“Where’s the
music?” he mumbled, his voice low and urgent. He gripped his temples hard and
stumbled back, knocking a display of greeting cards to the floor. The sound was
a loud clatter in the otherwise quiet room. “Shit… I didn’t…”
“Sir?” This time
she was within reaching distance as he rounded on her, his lips pulled back in
a snarl—or a grimace of pain, she couldn’t be entirely sure. Whatever, it
wasn’t the look of someone who wanted to be spoken to. Time to leave. She
glanced at the front door, imagining the steps between here and there and
whether or not he would lurch her way. When she focused back on him, all she
saw was a situation that could get out of hand. He was a good six inches taller
than her five-nine, broad and built, with tattoos curling around his wrist,
disappearing up under the sleeve of the hoodie.
Everything about
him looked wrong. He didn’t move again, or even acknowledge her; all he did was
stare with bright sapphire eyes, focused on a point behind her, scary and
intense and so damned fixated with his expression in that scowl.
“What happened?”
He groaned and covered his eyes again. “Call… Zee…”
She texted
without looking, only glancing at the screen briefly to make sure she was
sending another text to her brother and not some random person on her list.
911. Again. The standard sibling instruction for help me right the hell now,
reserved for having one of her brothers rescue her from one of her many
dreadful first dates. Garrett wasn’t even in town, so there was little point
texting him, and Justin may not even be in the sheriff’s office. She hoped to
hell he was, though, and had read her message. She’d know soon enough because
the small sheriff’s office was close.
And still the
stranger stood there, staring at her. At least he hadn’t moved any closer.
He closed his
eyes and wiped the blood that was trickling down his face, looking down at his
hand and staring at the red that streaked his skin. Megan thought she heard a
sob, but couldn’t be sure. Compassion welled inside her. Vagrant or not,
dressed in soiled clothes and with the hood up, he didn’t have to be a
criminal.
“Sir? Do you
need help?” She held out her hand, but he stepped closer to her and damn it,
she may have had self-defense training but she wasn’t stupid. If the man was
hopped up on drugs, she had to stay out of reach. The door opened and Justin
stepped in, all uniform and pissed-off attitude.
“Two 911s? This
had better be good, Megs.”
Megan inclined
her head to the man Justin evidently hadn’t seen in his dramatic entrance.
Justin could handle himself, and he had a gun; he’d know what to do.
“What the hell?”
Justin said as he assessed the situation, his hand automatically resting on his
holstered weapon.
“I think it’s
drugs,” she said loud enough for Justin to hear. The man looked at Justin and
then to her, before shaking his head a little.
“No.” The voice
was raspy, little more than a growl. “Not those.” He appeared to be struggling
to talk, and he pressed his hands to each side of his head. “Just the music;
Zee will know,” he added, but his voice slurred, and he coughed and doubled
over.
Justin pulled
his weapon and held it to one side, his other hand held in front of him as he
stepped closer. “Sir? Are you hurt?”
Megan saw her
brother’s hand on the sidearm, the other placating and suggesting and warning
at the same time. She’d seen him stand like this when he broke up the fight at
the drugstore. Not that he’d drawn his weapon then; he’d dealt with it by
intimidation alone, because everyone involved lived in the town and no one
messed with the sheriff. Megan looked at her brother, who teased her, who’d
hidden her dolls and pulled her pigtails as a kid, but who was now in a
situation that was serious. He was all business.
“What’s your
name, sir?” Justin asked.
The stranger
stepped back from him, straight into a pile of notebooks this time. The shelf
shuddered and some of the display tilted. The movement translated into Justin
grabbing the man’s hoodie to stop him falling as he flailed and attempted to
stay upright.
He took a swing
at Justin, who ducked and swerved. The attempted hit missed Justin by a mile,
and the man followed the momentum he had begun, smacked his fist against a
shelf edge, and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Then he didn’t move, was
absolutely still. Justin holstered his weapon and crouched next to the prone
form of the hooded man, checking for a pulse and then talking into his radio.
“Dispatch, 390D,
medical assistance required at Notes & Roses.”
Review:
Oh this one is a page turner. You won't want to put it down and you sure as heck are going to want a long, tall glass of iced...well, anything. *grin* This is a beautiful story and the start to a great series.
Bravo. Great read.
5/5
About
the Author:
RJ Scott is the bestselling
author of over ninety romance novels and novellas. From cowboys to
millionaires, SEALS to cops, her stories are passionate, sexy, and always come
with a guaranteed happy ever after. RJ also writes as Rozenn Scott for her new
line of strong men and women who find that it’s always worth overcoming
obstacles to find a forever love.
RJ lives just outside of London,
and has never met a bottle of wine she can’t defeat.
For more information on other
books by RJ/Rozenn, visit her website: www.RJScott.co.uk
Tour
giveaway
3 Copies of an ARe A Shades of
Naughty ebook
What a lovely review... thank you, Rozenn xxxx
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