Meeting You

By Katana Collins

Meet the Tripps...

Every year on Father's Day, the Tripp family comes together for a celebration of their late dad's life. Their home is Maple Grove, New Hampshire, a charming and friendly community nestled in the heart of New England. A plentiful meal is served; memories are shared; and love overflows. But as wonderful as it is on the surface, each sibling is as different as night and day, and each has their own tale of loss and redemption. In this Maple Grove prequel, we meet each Cameron, Steve, Ronnie, Callie, and Noah (along with their mother, Marty) and see just how distinct a family can be, and how everyone has a battle in need of fighting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katana Collins
• Release date: Dec 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311942074

Katana Collins

Katana Collins splits her time evenly between photographing boudoir portraits and writing steam-your-glasses romances. In addition to navigating life as a small business owner, a first-time homeowner, and a newlywed, she is the author of the best-selling paranormal Soul Stripper trilogy. Her latest erotic suspense series, Wicked Exposure, comes out in 2015, along with its prequel, Wicked Shots. In the summer of 2014, she wrote her first ever graphic novel, Cafe Racer, with her husband Sean Murphy.She and her comic book artist husband commute back and forth as they please between Brooklyn, New York and Portland, Maine, with their ever-growing family of rescue animals (two dogs, a cat, and counting!). She can usually be found hunched over her laptop in a cafe, guzzling gallons of coffee, and wearing fabulous (albeit sometimes impractical) shoes.Visit her on the web at www.katanacollins.comTo contact or interact with Katana,go to Twitter (@KatanaCollins) or Facebook.com/KatanaCollinsIf you loved this or any other of her books, consider joining her street team, Kat's Kittens, on Facebook!

Book preview

Acknowledgments

Publishing a book is a long road, full of twists and turns you can’t even imagine exist when you set out on the journey. There are so many people to thank, and I apologize if I’ve forgotten or overlooked anyone.

Many thanks go first to the story editor, Karen Harris, the cover designer, Fiona Jayde, and the copy editor/proofreader, Jennifer Gracen. Without you ladies, this book would not have been pretty (or even legible).

To my critique group, Krista Amigone, Alyssa Cole, Derek Bishop, Eliza Lamb, and Melissa Rheinlander—thank you, thank you, thank you. You didn’t just read this book… you read and reread and then read some more with every new change.

To my street team over at Kat’s Kittens, you ladies rock! You read, blog, review, and promote tirelessly. Please know that you are absolutely appreciated and you all have offered not only a fun outlet for photos and videos, but also an invaluable support system.

I would have never made it this far without the unfailing support of my family. Unfortunately, I was elbows deep in copy edits over Thanksgiving and so my entire family had to socialize with me from behind a laptop. Mom, Dad, Bo, Bridget, Adam, Adelynn, and Harrison… thank you for putting up with me while I catch up on work!

And Sean, my husband… thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything. Our careers weren’t the easiest paths to follow and yet here we are, living our dreams.

Part One

Cameron

"Madelynn, could you please just sit still long enough for me to brush your hair?" Cameron Tripp tugged the hairbrush through his daughter’s snarled dark strands. The bristles snagged on God only knew what, and he pulled again as Maddie’s shrill scream echoed in the bathroom of their lakeside cottage.

Ow! she cried. Stop! Stop it, you’re hurting me! Tears streamed down her cheeks, and Cam stole a quick look in the mirror. Were they real tears or crocodile tears? He could never tell the damn difference, but Hannah always knew. She’d known without even looking.

Mommy never yanked!

Her small shoulders trembled while her ruddy cheeks flushed red, hot with tears, frustration, and anger. An anger that at only nine years old, she probably had no understanding of.

Cam stilled his hands, gently freeing the brush out of her tangled hair and setting it down on the sink. Sorry, Mouse. I forgot the detangler.

Giant brown eyes brimmed with tears, eyelashes spiked with moisture. Those eyes—they were all Hannah, a little piece of his late wife reflected there. Cam swallowed, and it went down hard. A heaviness landed in his chest, that too familiar knot twisting into his throat. He pulled his daughter in tight for a hug.

You always forget. A staggered inhalation caused Maddie’s lips to tremble, and she clumsily swiped her hands across her cheeks.

I don’t always forget. A loaded breath pushed from his lungs as he lowered to search the cupboard under the sink. Cam inwardly cursed. We’re already late for Grandma’s dinner. Can you cut your old man some slack?

Damn there were a lot of bottles in the back of the cabinet. Hannah’s? He leaned closer and inhaled, seeking her scent, but after a year and a half, the lingering smell of almonds was gone.

Hannah’s voice in his head was merely a wispy memory.

You can do this. It held a gravely rasp that only surfaced when her heart was working too hard.

Cam wiped at his leaky eyes and pressed the cool cloth to her forehead once more. Hair that was a fiery red mere days earlier was now a dull rust color plastered to her clammy skin.

Don’t say that, he said, firm but gentle. You’ll pull through this. You always do. An eerie silence was all the response he needed to know that neither of them really believed that. Machines beeped beside him, and he brushed his hand down her arm, stopping just short of her IV and the oxygen monitor pinched to her index finger.

Hannah’s smile tilted on full lips, and Cam took the quiet moment to study every curve and dip of her face. Beautiful. Even while ill. But where her cheeks used to be plump, they were now gaunt. Where her blush would normally match the rosy hue of her mouth, it was now a grayish mauve. Even her freckles looked pale. The whites of her deep brown eyes were now a buttery yellow—courtesy of the experimental drug her doctor had recommended.

A cough sputtered out of her lips, and Cam rushed for the bucket, helping her lean over it. Blood and phlegm spurted with more force than he could bear to see, and her bony chest heaved with the movement.

She gasped for breaths between coughs, and Cam scooped her hair out of the way, holding it in a knot at the back of her head. The fit slowed until her breathing returned to normal—or as normal as it could be at the moment. He gently lowered her back to the pillow and wiped her lips and chin.

"Thank