Where the Heart Is (15 page)

 

T
HANK YOU
so much for reading
Where the Heart Is
. It's the first book in the Ribbon Ridge series. I hope you enjoyed it! Read on for a sneak peek at book two in the series,
Only in My Dreams
.

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Books by Darcy Burke

 

Secrets and Scandals Regency Historical Series

 

 

Her Wicked Ways

 

“A bad girl heroine steals both the show and a highwayman's heart in Darcy Burke's deliciously wicked debut.” –Courtney Milan,
New York Times
Bestselling Author

 

His Wicked Heart

 

“Intense and intriguing. Cinderella meets
Fight Club
in a historical romance packed with passion, action and secrets.”

–Anna Campbell,
Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

 

To Seduce a Scoundrel

 

“Darcy Burke pulls no punches with this sexy, romantic page-turner. Simply delicious!”

–Tessa Dare,
New York Times
Bestselling Author

 

To Love a Thief

 

“This novella has it all—action, romance, love and passion…a lovely story!”

–Rogues Under the Covers

 

Never Love a Scoundrel

 

“A nice mix of intrigue and passion . . . wonderfully complex characters, with flaws and quirks that will draw you in and steal your heart.”

–BookTrib

 

Scoundrel Ever After

 

Coming Winter 2013

As one of a famous set of sextuplets, Sara Archer was often lost in the crowd. Her sensory processing disorder, which made her seem distant and awkward, only contributed to her feeling like an odd girl out. Never did she feel that more sharply than when her high school crush completely ignored her. Now, grown up and living away from her family, she's established herself as a premier event planner and built a life in which she's capable and comfortable.

When family tragedy pulls her back to Ribbon Ridge, she comes face to face with her former crush, Dylan Westcott. Sparks fly between them, but Sara's disorder is exacerbated by her family and business woes. Her once serene life is now an overwhelming mess, and juggling a romance is not only more than she ever dreamed, it might be more than she can handle.

Excerpt from Chapter One

Sara turned to the man who sat on the stool beside her. And froze. She hadn't seen him in a few years, but she would never, ever forget his light gray-green eyes and rugged jaw. He was the most handsome boy—man—she'd ever met, and being in his presence made her feel like a nobody. Particularly since he didn't seem to recognize her at all.

Heart pounding, she turned back toward the bar and finished her lemon drop.

“Can I buy you another?” He angled his body toward her. “I'm Dylan Westcott.”

“No, thank you.” She caught the bartender's eye and motioned for another lemon drop. The bartender answered with a nod.

After a moment, he said, “Okay then. How about I just sit here for a minute and you just act like I'm funny and nice. That way, everyone else won't think I'm a total loser.”

Dylan Westcott a loser? He'd been two years ahead of her in high school: quarterback, homecoming king, captain of the debate team. Sara had harbored a massive crush during her freshman and sophomore years until Dylan had graduated, but even after that it had endured for a while. Hayden and Dylan's younger brother Cameron were good friends, and still were, more than a decade later.

Sara didn't say anything, but snuck a look at his chiseled features and was dismayed to find her heart still did a little flip.

The bartender delivered her second lemon drop, and Sara took a long fortifying drink.

Dylan ordered a beer and then exhaled. “I'm totally striking out here. I swear, I'm a nice guy. And I never pick up women in bars. Not that I'm picking you up.” He put his hand against his forehead and briefly closed his eyes. “Never mind.” He dropped his hand and offered her a weak smile. “Sorry, I'll leave you alone.” He turned his body fully toward the bar.

Sara should've just let it go, but she didn't want him to feel bad. He didn't even realize she was the girl he'd ignored ten plus years ago. “I'm Sara,” she said, purposely leaving her last name out.

He rotated his stool toward her. “Hi Sara. Thanks for taking pity on me.”

“That's all it is,” she said, “pity. I can see you're not very good at this and you probably have terrible luck with women.” She didn't believe that in the slightest, but got a silly little jolt of pleasure just saying it.

He laughed. “The worst. You have a kind heart, Sara.” The bartender set a pint of beer in front of him, and he took a hearty drink. “Excuse the total cliché, but it's a valid question: do you come here often? It's my first time.”

She shrugged. “I come in from time to time. I don't live too far away.” Oops. First rule of going out: don't tell men where you live. Sara had a hard time remembering social rules sometimes, much to her siblings' chagrin. No, she didn't want to think about them. She shoved them from her mind and focused on the lemony deliciousness of her drink, the soothing thump of the bassline in the music, and the ridiculously handsome face of Dylan Westcott. Who she should totally ignore as payback, but couldn't quite bring herself to do.

“Do you dance?” he asked.

“It's the reason I come here.” She gave him a haughty look. “Not to pick up guys.”

He chuckled. “I came with a couple friends who definitely came to pick up women. I just wanted to find a place to sit and have a beer. It's my luck that the prettiest girl in the bar just happens to be sitting next to me.”

Sara looked nice, but there was no way she was the prettiest girl in the bar. “Ha! For a guy who isn't trolling for a date, you sure know all the lines.”

He gave her a look of mock-outrage. “I mean it! You're the best looking woman in here.”

“Seriously?” She turned her stool around entirely to face a collection of tables where people were scattered about in front of the dancefloor. “That redhead over there is gorgeous.” She gestured toward a woman with a beautiful head of ruthlessly straightened hair and model-perfect looks.

He turned his stool to join her. “Too done-up. Someone like that puts too much stock in how she looks.”

Sara looked at him. “How do you know that?”

He cast her a sideways glance filled with humor. “You don't think she rolls out of bed every morning looking like that do you?”

Sara considered the redhead once more. “No, I suppose not.” She looked around for another pretty face. “What about that brunette over there, with the group of guys? They're hanging on her every word—she's very pretty.”

He drank his beer. “Yes, she's attractive, but she knows it. You can see her arrogance in the elevation of her head and the way she keeps flashing insincere smiles at her adoring fans. She cultivates a fan club wherever she goes. And no one's teeth are that white without a lot of effort.”

Sara wondered how much time he spent studying people. “I get this is your first time here, but how much time do you spend in bars?”

He laughed again. “Not a lot, actually. I minored in psychology. Trying to read people is a hobby—and a bad habit, probably.”

“And how did you read me?”

He turned toward her and considered her carefully. “You seemed approachable. You have exquisite features—incredible blue eyes.” He shrugged and his face might've tinted a little pink. “You seemed like someone worth talking to.”

Coming in 2014!

 

I
NEVER
thought I'd write a contemporary story, let alone a series, but this idea grabbed me during the last annual NW Pixie Retreat and simply wouldn't let go. Whatever we Pixies are doing to encourage creativity (and word count), let's keep it up! Kristina, Rachel, Kris, Courtney, Becky, Cathy, Joan, and Elisabeth—I love you all so much.

 

Special thank you to Holly vanSchaick, a Washington firefighter who was incredibly kind to answer all of my questions about how to put out a fire. Holly actually saved two kittens who were temporarily blind and consequently trying to get
into
a burning building for warmth. Thank you for being a hero, Holly; your service is awesome and incredibly appreciated. (And thank you Rachel Grant for putting us together AND for reading. You rock, as usual.)

 

Thank you to my agent, Jim McCarthy, for his always excellent feedback. And a special thank you to Lauren Abramo for a great night out in New York.

 

And of course thank you to the incomparable Erica Ridley and Janice Goodfellow. Without your eyes on my words and your support at my back, I would be lost.

 

Ribbon Ridge is a fictional town based on several cities and towns dotting the Willamette Valley between Portland and the Oregon Coast. It's pinot noir wine country, very beautiful and picturesque—and a short drive from where I live. My brother actually dwells right in the heart of it in a tiny town with no grocery store or gas station. There is, however, an amazing antique mall in a historic schoolhouse. 

I chose the name Ribbon Ridge, which is an AVA (American Viticultural Area) that produces some of my very favorite pinot, because I love the sound of it. I created a fictional town so that I could combine elements of all of the places I like to visit, although many of them still make appearances. There is a hospital in Newberg, and McMinnville is the largest city in the area and includes an excellent private college, which is the basis for the fictional Williver where Derek went to school.

 

I hope you enjoyed visiting Ribbon Ridge and invite you to come again soon, when the next novel,
Only in My Dreams
, is available. In the meantime, you can check out images of the area and other things that inspired this series on Pinterest at http://www.pinterest.com/darcyburkewrite.

Darcy Burke

October 14, 2013