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BookwormBridgette's World
By Allie Boniface
Blurb:
Welcome to the small town of Lindsey Point, where hunky heroes and smart, sassy heroines abound! For the first time, readers can enjoy the first three books in the Hometown Heroes series by USA Today bestselling author Allie Boniface.
In BEACON OF LOVE, a haunted lighthouse and a 50-year old murder mystery take center stage, along with a romance about to erupt between a NYC travel journalist and a hunky local handyman who’s forced to step in as her cameraman. Lucas wants to protect the town's secrets, but Sophie is bent on uncovering them at all costs. Sparks fly, but local legends are about to crumble…
The secrets continue in INFERNO OF LOVE, when teenage sweethearts Finn and Aubrey are reunited after ten years. But since their summer love affair, a fire has turned him into a hero, while a horrific accident stole her memory. She doesn’t remember him. He’s never forgotten her. Now Finn and Aubrey must come to terms with the past if they have any chance of building a future together.
Finally, get ready for two intertwined love stories in LABYRINTH OF LOVE. Outsider Chase Reardon and local resident Shannon O'Brien thought they were strangers assigned to work on the same small town project, until a forbidden love story from 60 years ago linked them in unimaginable ways. How far will we go, and what kinds of secrets will we keep, to stay with the one we love?
"I really enjoyed reading the stories created by Allie Boniface because they remind me that even in the most unsuspecting situations, everything that is wonderful comes together in the end which is truly indicative of the classic romance novel. Do yourself a favor and read them...you'll be happy you did!" --Today's Writing Woman
Each of the Hometown Heroes books is a stand-alone novel, which means no cliff-hangers and a complete happy ending each time. Enjoy!
Beacon of Love - Book 1
Inferno of Love - Book 2
Labyrinth of Love - Book 3
Entwined - A Poetry Collection to accompany Labyrinth of Love
Miracle of Love - Book 4, a Christmas novella
Soldier of Love - Book 5
Art of Love – Book 6, a novella
Available for purchase at
Excerpts
From BEACON OF LOVE:
“Hey, you want some
coffee?” Sophie asked. “There’s always a fresh pot brewing in the trailer.” In
wedge sandals with ribbons that wrapped around her ankles, she gained about two
or three inches, but that still brought her only to Lucas’s chin. Maybe. Didn’t
matter. Every one of her curves was within easy reach.
He shook his head and
stuffed both hands into his pockets. “Had a couple-a cups earlier. But thanks.”
“I’m not much of a
caffeine addict myself. But the guys like it.” She ran her fingers over the
headband. “So what do you think? My hair still look like a helmet?”
Lucas felt himself turn a
couple of shades of red. “I don’t know. It’s fine. I didn’t really look at it.”
“Sure you didn’t.” She
turned to look at the small stone structure behind the lighthouse itself. “Did
you hear? Lon got permission to film inside the keeper’s house.”
“Heard him mention it.”
She studied him, resting
one hand on a slim hip. “Not much of a conversationalist, are you?”
“Didn’t know that was a
requirement for the job.”
She shrugged. “It isn’t.
You want to check it out with me?”
Hell,
yeah
were the first words that came to mind. “Uh, sure,” were the ones he managed to
get out.
“Cool.” She turned and
headed toward the house, and after Lucas set his camera on one of the flatbed
trailers parked on the sand, he went after her.
She had a few paces on
him, but in her fancy shoes she wobbled and sank every few steps, so he caught
up to her almost at once.
“Hey.” She reached for
his arm as he approached. “Can you give a girl a hand?” Her fingers landed
somewhere around his elbow, and instinctively he crooked it so she could hold
on. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” A jolt of
something good, definitely hot, more than a little suggestive, zoomed from his
elbow straight to his groin. He thought about putting his other hand over hers
for extra support and balance, but after a second or two he wasn’t sure he’d be
able to stop it from moving elsewhere--say, up her arm to her bare shoulder or
her neck, her earlobe or maybe the dark waves of hair brushing her shoulders.
He kept his other hand in
his pocket instead and struggled not to think X-rated thoughts as her hip
bumped against his every few steps. In a minute they reached the keeper’s
house, a small, square one-story building, gray and weathered from the salt air
the way most homes near the ocean tended to be. It had a solid but old door, a
crumbling stoop, a chimney that had seen better days. A cracked window or two.
Guess ten years of neglect would do that to a place. To a place, and a town,
and the people who lived there too.
Sophie stepped back from
the door, close to Lucas. Close enough that he could smell her perfume or
lotion or shampoo or something. He didn’t know or care what the hell it was,
only that it was enough to make him stop thinking about anything except the way
Sophie’s bare skin would feel next to his, her legs tangled with his and his
hands in her hair and--
“Here we go.” The
producer turned the key, and Sophie followed him inside, and the moment was
gone. Just in time, too, because Mr. Wake-up-and-Look was turning into Mr.
Wake-up-and-Let’s-Go in a hurry. Hell,
keep it under control, Oakes. Think about the Red Sox. Lucas yanked at the
bill of his baseball cap and stepped across the threshold.
From INFERNO OF LOVE:
In a minute, Aubrey would
ask Finn how much he knew, and he didn't know what he'd say. He wanted so much
to tell her everything about the time they'd spent together. Yet a strange urge
in him wanted to protect her, too, so she'd never know the way they'd left each
other, the awkward way they'd said goodbye. One hand turned to a fist, as if
trying to pump courage from his heart to his mouth. But she went on before he
could say a word.
"I have whole chunks
of time I can't remember, Finn. Weeks,
both before and after, that are just gone. Completely missing." Her eyes
filled. "You can't imagine what that's like."
His hand fell open,
fingers loose against his leg. He wanted to tell her she was lucky, that he'd
wished for so long to have just that, chunks of time removed from his mind,
instead of what he had, what he'd always had since that summer: a
near-photographic memory of every moment they'd spent together. Over the years,
in the wake of her silence, he'd wished them away, but no matter how many women
he slept with or how many hours he spent renovating the bar – and then renovating
the apartment above it – and then helping Lucas with whatever project he could
find around town – she always returned to him. Every memory. Every moment.
"God, I just – I
wish I could remember something."
He fell again just like
that, watching her catch her bottom lip in her teeth as she mulled over her
words. The rhythm of her voice, the way her eyes caught the light…he was
nineteen all over again, crushing on another man's girlfriend without a clue of
what to do about it.
Only he wasn't nineteen
anymore.
And Aubrey wasn't here
with another man.
Fuck
it.
He was done thinking. He moved from around the bar without a word, and as he
closed the distance between them, she slipped from her stool, moving toward him
and landing in his arms like she'd been there all this time. His hand went to
the back of her head, cupping it and easing it closer. Her chin lifted, and he
caught her mouth with his, loving the way her breath hitched in her throat. She
melted into him, the warmth of her curves searing his skin and soaking into the
very core of him. His eyes closed.
He slid his tongue over
her bottom lip, taking it slow, waiting for her to step back or break the
connection. She didn't. A minute passed, then another. The kiss deepened, and
he wasn't sure who pressed first, who wanted more urgently, but it didn't
matter. Their tongues met, twisting over and under, delicious and wet and so
hot he could barely stand it. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his waist
to slide down the back of his jeans and pull him close, closer, until he knew
she could feel the way he rose under her touch, wanting her like no other woman
he'd ever been with.
"Oh, Finn…" she
said into his mouth, and the words set him on fire. He couldn't wait, couldn't
hold back one more second. His palm skimmed down her dress and beneath it, to
the swell of her ass and skin so smooth he wanted to taste it. She rose onto
her toes, and her mouth crushed his until she pulled her lips away and moved
them to his neck and his jaw line and up to his ear, leaving a breathy trail
every place she touched.
"Listen, we – "
know each other. We've done this before.
He had to tell her. Didn't he?
"I don't want to
talk."
So he didn't say another
word.
From LABYRINTH OF LOVE:
He saw her, and he fell.
One minute Will Silverstone was sitting with his buddies on the stone bench by the library, admiring the new freshmen coming down the walk. The next he was lying flat on his back, staring up at the sky and a pair of button-brown eyes.
Somewhere above him, he heard his friends’ laughter, and he realized they had knocked away the books he leaned against and sent him tumbling backwards. Still, for the rest of his life, he liked to think it was Vivian Blue who spun the world and tipped him head over heels. That was the story he ended up telling the world, over and over again. She had the power to do that even from the start.
“Need some help?” She leaned over him, blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders. For a second he read the wrinkle in her forehead as concern, and he puffed up his chest.
“I’m fine.” He leaned back on his elbows and pretended to sun himself.
Then he realized she was laughing at him. “I’m sure you are.”
He sat up. His friends had vanished.
“Be careful on those benches.” She tossed the remark over her shoulder and linked arms with another coed who waited for her. “I hear they can be pretty dangerous.”
He watched her walk away and couldn’t think of a thing to say in return.
###
The next afternoon, Will found her in the library. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours asking everyone who she was, the looker who laughed when he fell on his ass. He woke half a dozen times that night, thinking of her heart-shaped face looking down at him.
He pulled up a chair to her table. “There you are. I think we should start over.”
She smiled. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”
His jaw dropped before he saw the crinkles at the corners of her eyes. She’s joking with me. Again. He shook his head. Just like that, she made him squirm. He, Will Silverstone, captain of his high school football and debate teams and social chair of his fraternity. Just like that.
“Actually, no,” he joked back. “I make a habit of approaching strange women in the library.”
“Really? Sounds like that might get you into a little bit of trouble.” She rested her chin on one hand. “Of course, from what I hear, you have some other interesting habits too. Like falling off benches in broad daylight.” She cocked her head. “Do you drink at breakfast?”
He felt the blood climb into his cheeks. “Of course not. You were the one who made me fall, anyway.”
“I made you fall?”
“Sure.” His gaze moved downward, and he noticed for the first time that she wore the same clothes as yesterday: a pale yellow dress that matched her hair and a pink-patterned sweater pulled around her shoulders. Her shoes were scuffed. When she saw him peeking at them, she tucked them under her chair. “You distracted me.”
She continue to smile without saying a word.
“I’m Will Silverstone.” He held out a hand.
“I know who you are.” After a minute, she placed her hand into his. “Vivian Blue.”
“You from around here, Vivian Blue?” He watched her eyes shade with pleasure.
“Not my whole life. I grew up in a couple different places. I graduated from a school out in the Midwest.”
“You’re far from home.”
She shrugged. “Home’s where you make it. You went to that prep school outside of Bluffet Edge, didn’t you?”
“How did you know?”
She withdrew her hand and opened a book. “You look like a rich kid.”
“I’m not. My father taught foreign languages there. That’s the only reason I could go. Didn’t have to pay tuition.”
She didn’t look like she believed him.
He looked at the red notebook lying open on the table. She’d written a few lines that looped across the page in a careful script. He read them once, upside down. Then he turned the notebook all the way around and read the poem again. “You wrote this?”
She pulled the notebook away and flipped the cover shut. “It’s awful.”
“It’s brilliant.”
“It’s not even close.” She chewed on the end of a pencil.
“Can I read more?”
“No. Definitely not.”
“Please?” He was considering a major in either Business or English. He’d never admit it to most of his fraternity brothers, but words and stories got inside his soul. It didn’t matter what language they were in; he spoke four fluently. “I’ll buy you coffee in exchange. Or lunch, if you like.”
“Is this your way of asking me out?”
“Maybe.”
She flashed him a smile. “Go ask a sorority sister on the other side of campus, why don’t you? I’m sure one of them will say yes.”
Will grinned and fell for the second time in less than a day. Just like that, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
He saw her, and he fell.
One minute Will Silverstone was sitting with his buddies on the stone bench by the library, admiring the new freshmen coming down the walk. The next he was lying flat on his back, staring up at the sky and a pair of button-brown eyes.
Somewhere above him, he heard his friends’ laughter, and he realized they had knocked away the books he leaned against and sent him tumbling backwards. Still, for the rest of his life, he liked to think it was Vivian Blue who spun the world and tipped him head over heels. That was the story he ended up telling the world, over and over again. She had the power to do that even from the start.
“Need some help?” She leaned over him, blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders. For a second he read the wrinkle in her forehead as concern, and he puffed up his chest.
“I’m fine.” He leaned back on his elbows and pretended to sun himself.
Then he realized she was laughing at him. “I’m sure you are.”
He sat up. His friends had vanished.
“Be careful on those benches.” She tossed the remark over her shoulder and linked arms with another coed who waited for her. “I hear they can be pretty dangerous.”
He watched her walk away and couldn’t think of a thing to say in return.
###
The next afternoon, Will found her in the library. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours asking everyone who she was, the looker who laughed when he fell on his ass. He woke half a dozen times that night, thinking of her heart-shaped face looking down at him.
He pulled up a chair to her table. “There you are. I think we should start over.”
She smiled. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”
His jaw dropped before he saw the crinkles at the corners of her eyes. She’s joking with me. Again. He shook his head. Just like that, she made him squirm. He, Will Silverstone, captain of his high school football and debate teams and social chair of his fraternity. Just like that.
“Actually, no,” he joked back. “I make a habit of approaching strange women in the library.”
“Really? Sounds like that might get you into a little bit of trouble.” She rested her chin on one hand. “Of course, from what I hear, you have some other interesting habits too. Like falling off benches in broad daylight.” She cocked her head. “Do you drink at breakfast?”
He felt the blood climb into his cheeks. “Of course not. You were the one who made me fall, anyway.”
“I made you fall?”
“Sure.” His gaze moved downward, and he noticed for the first time that she wore the same clothes as yesterday: a pale yellow dress that matched her hair and a pink-patterned sweater pulled around her shoulders. Her shoes were scuffed. When she saw him peeking at them, she tucked them under her chair. “You distracted me.”
She continue to smile without saying a word.
“I’m Will Silverstone.” He held out a hand.
“I know who you are.” After a minute, she placed her hand into his. “Vivian Blue.”
“You from around here, Vivian Blue?” He watched her eyes shade with pleasure.
“Not my whole life. I grew up in a couple different places. I graduated from a school out in the Midwest.”
“You’re far from home.”
She shrugged. “Home’s where you make it. You went to that prep school outside of Bluffet Edge, didn’t you?”
“How did you know?”
She withdrew her hand and opened a book. “You look like a rich kid.”
“I’m not. My father taught foreign languages there. That’s the only reason I could go. Didn’t have to pay tuition.”
She didn’t look like she believed him.
He looked at the red notebook lying open on the table. She’d written a few lines that looped across the page in a careful script. He read them once, upside down. Then he turned the notebook all the way around and read the poem again. “You wrote this?”
She pulled the notebook away and flipped the cover shut. “It’s awful.”
“It’s brilliant.”
“It’s not even close.” She chewed on the end of a pencil.
“Can I read more?”
“No. Definitely not.”
“Please?” He was considering a major in either Business or English. He’d never admit it to most of his fraternity brothers, but words and stories got inside his soul. It didn’t matter what language they were in; he spoke four fluently. “I’ll buy you coffee in exchange. Or lunch, if you like.”
“Is this your way of asking me out?”
“Maybe.”
She flashed him a smile. “Go ask a sorority sister on the other side of campus, why don’t you? I’m sure one of them will say yes.”
Will grinned and fell for the second time in less than a day. Just like that, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
Hometown Heroes Series
About The Author
Allie Boniface is the USA Today best-selling author of over a dozen novels, including the Cocktail Cruise, Hometown Heroes, and Pine Point series. Her books are set in small towns and feature emotional, thought-provoking, sensual romance with relatable characters you'll know and love.
A graduate of the University of Rochester and Case Western Reserve University, Allie currently lives in a small town in the beautiful Hudson Valley of New York with her husband and their two furry felines. When she isn't teaching high school English, she likes to travel, lose herself in great music, or go for a long run and think about her next small town story.
You can find Allie at
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