Head Over Heels: Sanctuary, #1

By Evie Snow

Second chance love is a spectator sport…

 

Pin-up clothing store owner Madeline Evans always spends her July 4th on the beach writing down her goals. As she perfects her life improvement plan, she keeps an eye out for her fantasy man. Every year, she watches her almost-prom-date-turned-famous-actor jog along the same beach where she writes her resolutions. But she never expected to actually have to talk to him…

 

Cal Greyson's acting career just took a sharp turn for the worse. After losing his bid to star in a blockbuster flick, his steady job at a soap opera is cut short in the most embarrassing way possible. It's the cherry on the sundae when he falls down during his annual jog through his hometown beach. As the onlookers start recording with their smartphones, he's rescued by the most surprising person imaginable…

 

The former high school classmates hide out in Madeline's house until the coast is clear. As they revisit the past, a little white lie Madeline spread about Cal in her youth may keep them from fantasizing about their future…

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Exile Publishing
• Release date: Apr 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9781912305049

Evie Snow

Evie Snow is the pseudonym for a globe-trotting writing team working towards their very own Happily Ever After: Best-selling author Georgina Penney does the actual writing and reads far too many books. Her husband, Tony Johnson (AKA The Kraken) helps out with plot wrangling and is in charge of caffeine distribution. Franky, their surly cat also helps by running the complaints department from his hiding place under the coffee table. When not writing warm and funny contemporary romance, Georgina and Tony can currently be found roaming the wilds of England & Scotland, hiking valiantly from café to tea shop in a never-ending quest to find the perfect scone.

Book preview

Chapter 1

MY SELF IMPROVEMENT PLAN

Madeline Evans tapped her pen on her new Moleskine notebook, contemplating the words she’d painstakingly written nearly forty minutes ago. After another few seconds of deep thought, she underlined them. Then she looked up to squint at the sun’s reflection off of the pristine waters of the North Pacific as she settled herself more comfortably on her beach towel.

It was the Fourth of July, and beautiful people were swarming all over the sands of Sanctuary, California’s Cliff Beach, their bodies showing the kind of muscles that only came from twice-daily gym sessions and thinking about their food in terms of protein and carbs. The aquamarine sea beyond was infested with yet more beautiful people, splashing and sparkling in board shorts and bikinis made out of fairy dust or unicorn whiskers or whatever it was that made up the clothes of beautiful people.

Unthinkingly, Madeline wrote MAN EATING SHARKS on the next line, then looked at it defacing her nice clean page in alarm. No, this would not do.

She considered crossing the words out, but instead doodled a four-leaf clover over the top of them and added a smiling caterpillar for good measure. There. Now she just had a pretty decoration for her plan. She gave the page some further contemplation, then neatly wrote:

Think nicer thoughts about people.

Yes, that was a goal if ever there was one. What was a plan for self-improvement if it didn’t include cleansing herself of negativity? Feeling a glow of smug satisfaction at her impending purity of mind, Madeline glanced up at the beach again only to see a woman who appeared to be auditioning for a feminine hygiene commercial jogging along the tide line. Commercial Girl was so light and graceful that the sand at her feet barely moved as she laughed at something a hot surfer called out to her.

Madeline’s pen scrawled over the paper with the vehemence of a hand possessed.

Invent marauding robotic beach sharks that eat people who look good wearing white bikinis, because the world needs JUSTICE!!!

Okay, there was no way she would be able to cover all that up with four-leaf clovers and caterpillars. Maybe she could draw something abstract over the top of it. Wavy ripples, that kind of thing . . . Another woman caught Madeline’s attention, this time one with perfect hair, perfect light brown skin and perfect bee-stung lips.

Wear less makeup.

She underlined the words a few times for emphasis and then stared at them.

Except for eyeliner.

And foundation and concealer.

Lipstick is okay too as long as it’s natural.

P.S. Pink is natural.

She reached up to hold her straw hat to her head as the sea breeze changed direction, bringing with it the scent of coconut tanning oil, sunscreen, and seafood from the grill located at the top of the path that led up the cliff to Sanctuary’s main drag.

Her stomach rumbled.

Eat less food.

After some thought, Madeline added an exclamation mark. After even more thought, she drew a smiley face too, because she was an independent, body-positive woman who didn’t care what other people thought about her and didn’t believe in food policing. She had her own style. The only reason she wanted to lose a little extra weight was to fit into her clothes better. Yeah. That was it. She added another smiley face as a reward for thinking such a great thought about herself. She was definitely on the right track.

What the hell are you wearing?

The question was posed in a tone usually reserved for asking a waiter why there was a hair in one’s Caesar salad.

Smother sister in her sleep.

Madeline started covering those words up with a string of daisies, deliberately moving the pen slowly. It’s a fifties playsuit.

"Yeah? Well, you’ve been out of the game way too long if you think that thing’s gonna invite anyone to play with you. I bet you’re stocking it at Head Over Heels along with that stupid hat. Brooke thrust an ice-cream cone in Madeline’s face. Here. Happy Birthday. I got you butter pecan, but I didn’t get you a Snickers in it ‘cos I know you’re dieting."

Thanks. Madeline ran her tongue around the top of the waffle cone. Yum. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t smother Brooke, maybe she’d just settle for mild strangulation. How’d you find me?

Brooke’s white sundress settled prettily around her thighs as she perched on a flat rock peeking out of the sand. "Because it’s your birthday, and every year you sit on