Write to Love

By Victoria Grant

Casey Dunlop kills people for a living and likes it. She's a newly published murder mystery novelist all set to make her dream come true: become a bestselling author. Even if she has to come out from behind her desk and meet real people at her first book signing event.
Noel Calderone, a handsome playboy and the youngest son in one of Toronto's most powerful and wealthiest families, has read her book and is determined to make Casey his next conquest despite their awkward first meeting.
Can Casey put her best foot forward to impress Noel's family? And will Noel's desire for Casey create more than a little friction in his family, especially with his mother, who is harbouring an old secret that could end their relationship before it starts...
Write to Love, Book Two in the Calderone Family Romance series, is a spirited and feel-good stand alone rom-com.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Feb 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9780228807995

Victoria Grant

Born in England to a Lawrence Welk-loving mum and a Monty Python-loving dad — tea drinkers all — Victoria Grant moved to Canada with her family when she was seven. Her f lair with words and a creative imagination prompted English teachers to urge her to write for a living, especially after she received a letter from the Prime Minister who thanked her for writing to him, which she describes as "pretty awesome for a twelve-year-old!"Through the years, she wrote many stories while earning a living as an administrative assistant at several businesses including a bank, a car company, an ice cream manufacturer, and a pharmaceutical firm. She was more than a little peeved when she discovered none of them gave out free samples. Victoria went on to start up a wedding coordination business, which she ran successfully for six years; all the while being happily married to the love of her life.These interesting jobs plus wedded bliss gave her oodles of ideas for romantic plot lines, tall, dark and handsome heroes and feisty, beautiful heroines, and, of course, the happily-ever-afters.And now, amidst endless cups of strong tea while Cole Porter tunes and the dead parrot sketch whirl around in her brain, Victoria writes romances with a dollop of humour. She has an irresistible need to create captivating characters whose lives she can make completely miserable before giving them their happy ending.Victoria Grant is a member of the Romance Writers of America, and the Toronto Romance Writers.

Book preview

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Write to Love

Copyright © 2019 by Victoria Grant

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-22880-798-8 (Paperback)

978-0-22880-799-5 (eBook)

Also by Victoria Grant

Stranded in Love, Book One in the Calderone Family Romance Series

If a gold medal was awarded for Worst Day Ever, Laney Calderone would win it today, hands down. She’s just discovered she’s pregnant, her fiancé abruptly dumps her when she tells him, and her new car refuses to start as a brutal snowstorm hits Toronto.

Good Samaritan Tyler Hammond offers to take her home; however, with the heavy snow falling and his patience dwindling, Laney’s gold medal day isn’t over yet.

Storms intensify both outside and in as Laney finds herself inexplicably attracted to this tall, dark and very handsome but infuriating stranger.

Can Laney fight her unwanted yet increasing desire for this man long enough to get through the relentless storm? And will Tyler let her walk out of his life as easily as she came into it?

Reviews for Stranded in Love

It has to be one of the best contemporary fiction novels of the year.

redheadedbooklover.com

Romance readers will enjoy this funny, mostly light-hearted, fare, perfect for curling up with hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night. This is a thoroughly modern love story . . . It is a reminder to this mostly cynical generation that life–and love –is like a dance: perfectly enjoyable even if you’re on your own, but somehow taking on a different level of meaning when shared with someone else.

BookReviewDirectory.com

"Set aside some time, because you’ll want to devour this entire book in one sitting. I absolutely loved this book. Could easily see this as a movie, to be honest. Every character in this book is dynamic, and realistic. Stranded in Love is a captivating story which delivers a happy ending, and I highly recommend it!"

alltheloveythings.tumblr.com

Victoria Grant is without a doubt a great author. Her writing is energetic, fast paced, and engaging.

Ramcy Diek, author of Storm at Keizer Manor

Ms. Grant has a wonderful flair for writing . . . overall, very well-written and paced. An excellent debut novel.

Jean Wilde, author of A Gentleman’s Bidding

"Victoria Grant beautifully captures the tension and the passion between men and women."

Lisa Brandenburg, author of Run

Laney and Tyler come alive from the initial pages. This could become the first book of a family dynasty.

Mary Cooney-Glazer, author of This Time Forever

"Stranded in Love has snappy dialogue, imperfect but genuine characters, and a whirlwind romance that all make it an entertaining read."

Chloe S. Flanagan,

author of Forward to What Lies Ahead

I’ve gotta say, that if I had been trapped in a snowstorm like Laney Calderone, I would not have complained about the snow one bit! I loved the banter back and forth between Laney and Tyler, and everything else about this lovely romance!

Alex Bailey,

author of The Future Memoirs of Anne Jones

Acknowledgements

Note to Reviewers

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

About the Author

I am truly fortunate to know some generous, imaginative and talented people who have inspired, advised and encouraged me during the writing and editing of Write to Love.

My heartfelt thanks and major hugs go out to Diane Tanner, JoAnn Hogenson, Kathleen McRae, Vanessa Thibault, Rosanna Leo, Francesca Jackman, and all the fabulous folks at Tellwell.

This novel was written in British/Canadian English. You will find some words will have different, not incorrect, spellings than American English. Thank you.

Perhaps I could just eat on days with the letter T in them. Then it’ll take twice as long to starve to death.

Casey Dunlop was on her way to a downtown Toronto bookshop knowing this was her chance, at last, to be a successful author. She’d dreamt of this since she was a little girl lying in bed at night listening to her grandmother spin enchanted tales of plucky Princess Penelope in the mystical land of Pinehaven.

Is it too much to want to be a bestselling author? No. It’s not. I’m literally a starving artist or will be soon. The inheritance from my parents won’t last forever. I’ll probably have to find a new home for my precious kitty, Shazam, and sell this old clunker of a car, my good old Smurfette. Unless a major stroke of good luck, along with a keg-size sprinkling of fairy dust, hand in hand with all the planets aligning, work their magic to help Cavorting with Murder fly fast and high up the bestsellers list.

Casey’s first nine novels had been rejected by every publisher on the first six pages of her Publishers Accepting Unsolicited Manuscripts list. However, her newly acquired agent, Sally Randall, had convinced Casey she would find a publisher for her latest murder mystery novel within twelve months. She’d done it in five. A small publishing house Casey didn’t know existed had decided novel number ten was worth their effort.

Casey’s time had arrived. Her fingers were crossed and if she could cross her arms, legs and eyes, and drive without injuring the unsuspecting public, she’d do it. She was sure God had tired of hearing the same old prayers from her, though maybe this time he would bestow his heavenly help upon her gripping, suspense-filled, fast-paced thriller of a mystery novel. Ah, yes, if only I could write my own reviews.

As she pulled into a parking space near the bookshop, she sent one more prayer to heaven, heavily underlining the lots of customers bit, just so God wouldn’t miss it. After all, he was pretty busy. Casey knew this weekend’s book-signing event was a key step in promoting Cavorting with Murder even though she’d been struggling all week to get into the right frame of mind. Positive thinking had never been her strong suit. What if nobody comes? What if I sit there like a bump on a log for hours and nobody knows who I am? Or, worse, they don’t want to waste their hard-earned money on my book?

It’s now or never, Case, she said to herself as she walked into the shop. Time to start livin’ the dream.

We’ll put your table right here, Miss Dunlop, to give your fans lots of room to line up to get your autograph.

Casey smiled happily at Turn the Page bookshop owner, Roger Shipley. She was always happy when she stepped inside a bookshop and took a few moments to immerse herself in her surroundings. The inks, the papers, the glue and bindings, they all combined to create that wonderful feeling of being home. Libraries had the same effect on her, which brought to mind a favourite quote by Frank Zappa, So many books, so little time.

Perfect. And Roger, please call me Casey. I sure hope this isn’t a waste of time for you and your staff. It’s the first book signing I’ve ever done. What if no one shows?

Roger bent over to move a box of books out of the aisle, then straightened and repositioned the few hairs on his head in a sad attempt to cover his massive bald spot, a habitual move that did little to improve things.

He smiled at Casey. Don’t worry about a thing. Your book will soon be a national bestseller. Your fans will soon be trailing around the block to meet you.

Casey flinched. Crowds made her nervous. She could easily get lost in them. Being only a smidge over five feet tall and quite slender, she wasn’t a physical force to be reckoned with. If you say so, Roger.

I do. You’re Toronto’s newest literary celebrity, KC Dunlop, and we’re here to help make you a household name.

Gee, Roger, wouldn’t that be terrific? And all from one book signing, she joked. What time should I be here tomorrow?

If you arrive around nine forty-five, you’ll have lots of time to be ready when we open at ten. We’ve been getting the word out all week about your signing event. You might want to increase the hype by posting a few social media updates tonight, and blog about it on your website. Please feel free to mention the store by name. And this arrived yesterday. He took a large cardboard cut-out off the table and opened it to reveal Casey from the waist up holding Cavorting with Murder. I’ll place this in our feature window right now to attract some pedestrian attention.

Casey hated that picture. She thought her mouth was too big and her nose had that stupid bump on it, plus it was larger than life-size, making her feel extra small. She’d argued with Sally about it; however, Sally knew the book-buying public better than she did. It’s why she’d hired her, so Casey had eventually, although reluctantly, agreed to it. That photograph now appeared on Casey’s website and all her social media platforms, and on the dust jacket of her novel, not life-size there, but large enough.

You’re stunning, Casey, Sally had told her. The lavender turtleneck you’re wearing brings out your violet eyes. Every male between the ages of eighteen and eighty will want you.

Casey wondered about being stunning, if indeed she was, because she didn’t think so, and what that had to do with folks buying a mystery novel . . . 

She jolted back to reality when Roger returned from placing the cut-out in the window, brushing a minuscule particle of dust from his suit. There. We’re all set.

He was right. Sally and Roger had taken care of all the details so there was nothing for Casey to do until tomorrow. I think I’ll go home and practice my signature.

Roger chuckled. Very funny, Casey. You do have a way with words.

Always a good thing for an author, she grinned. See you tomorrow. She headed out into the dull and dreary February afternoon and stopped to contemplate the ominous sky filled with heavy grey clouds. Feels like snow. And wouldn’t it be fun if we get a snowstorm tomorrow? No one will bother braving the elements to get a book signed. Failure just within reach. Way to think positive, Case!

With these joyous thoughts lodged in her brain, Casey was desperate to get home, shed her author persona and climb into her comfy PJ’s. She’d order a pizza, then spend the evening binge watching her favourite TV show cuddling Shazam. This was her usual way of combating nerves, which, thank goodness, she didn’t have to deal with too often. But this book signing was stressing her out beyond belief.

As she attempted to tune in to her murky sense of direction to recall where she’d parked Smurfette, she noticed a small shop across the street showing off their fresh produce in the window. Casey decided to scrap her indulgent pizza dinner and check out what the shop had to offer. Perhaps she could find a few nutritious and healthy items that wouldn’t take hours to prepare. She checked the time. It was early. She could pop in for a few minutes and still make it home before she got caught in the nightmare that was Toronto’s daily rush hour.

A bell tinkled as Casey opened the shop door. She stepped inside, caught the heavenly whiff of fresh baked goods and nearly turned around and left. Fight it, Case, you can do this. Those chocolate croissants will not lure you to the dark side today.

She took a basket and tried to figure out what she wanted for dinner, promising herself to maintain enough willpower to avoid the ice cream freezer and the bakery section, which continued to beckon. Yeah, good luck with that.

Can I ’elp ye, missy? a ginger-haired man approached her.

No, thanks. I’m not sure what I’m in the mood for.

If ye be needin’ any help, just ’oller. Me name’s Duncan.

The doorbell jingled again as more customers entered the shop. Casey glanced over at them, two men in expensive coats. One dark-haired, the other blonde. Both young and attractive, but not on the menu tonight, Case. She wandered up and down the aisles continuing her search for dinner ingredients, not giving the handsome twosome a second thought.

Her thoughts were entirely focused on the weekend book signing, she wasn’t concentrating at all on food options, which she found increasingly frustrating. She strolled aimlessly along each aisle for the second time, still with no clear idea of what she wanted.

She reached the vegetable section again, struggling to ignore the comforting and familiar cravings for her favourite pepperoni and pineapple pizza. Focus, Case, focus!

Excuse me, that’s my butternut.

Casey looked up. Her eyes fell on the most handsome man she’d ever had the pleasure to gaze upon. He was the well-dressed gentleman who had come in with the blonde, who was hovering behind him. She took a brief inventory of his gorgeousness. He was tall, well, anything over five feet was tall to her, but he was over six, with lovely thick, dark hair and even lovelier dark blue eyes. Is he British? Because this has gotta be James Bond standing right here in front of me.

He flashed a bright white sexy smile at her and jiggled the vegetable in his hand.

Casey finally looked down to see both their hands on the same large butternut squash in the bin. Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you’d already claimed this.

No problem. Why don’t you take it? He handed it to her.

Casey was doing her best not to stare again at the drop-dead gorgeous face smiling at her. Is he gay, not gay? Married, not married? Let’s find out. She returned the vegetable to the bin. No, I don’t think so. I was considering making soup with it, but I just don’t like soup enough to go to all the trouble of making it from scratch. Why don’t you take it? I’m sure your wife can make you a yummy casserole or whatever wives make with a squash the size of a watermelon.

I’m not married, and I don’t want the squash. He was still smiling, gazing into her beautiful purple eyes. Please, I want you to have it.

Casey’s head tilted, a slight grin appearing on her lips. So why was your hand on it if you didn’t want it?

James Bond lurched forward; the blonde had given him a hefty nudge.

Cut it out, Chuck. He smiled at Casey. Ah . . . well . . . you know . . . when you see a squash this size, it’s difficult to walk by it without giving it a squeeze, don’t you find?

Casey grinned, doing her best not to burst out laughing at this stunning creature with the vegetable squeezing fixation. No, actually. I can honestly say, without a word of a lie, that urge has never come upon me. She tried to steady herself, her breathing was coming in short gasps and her pulse was racing. Funny, butternut squashes have never caused this reaction before.

You should try it sometime. You’d be surprised at the interesting people you meet. He finally dragged his gaze from her eyes and he took in her face. She had a fair complexion; her cheeks were an adorable shade of pink. She had a cute nose with the little side bump which enhanced her loveliness, and a bright white smile.

Fascinating. Casey’s smile widened. So, you’re a compulsive squeezer, are you? I wonder if that’s true for women as well as those lucky vegetables.

Yes. He pitched forward again then turned to his friend. "Will you stop, Chuck? Go pay Duncan for the cake."

Charles. Casey heard the voice but couldn’t see the man.

James Bond turned back to Casey. "Yes, I am a squeezer, I’ll admit. But it has to be the perfect fruit or vegetable to get me in a squeezing mood, of course."

Of course. Casey nodded, her heart pumping with such intensity it was threatening to burst through her chest.

Charles stepped into the aisle so Casey could see him. Would you like me to take a few photos of you two? He laughed, taking his phone out of his coat pocket. Perhaps I could make a dinner reservation or book the honeymoon?

Charles, get lost.

Casey laughed as she checked her watch. If she didn’t leave now, she’d be stuck in tedious grid-lock for hours. "That does sound like fun, but I must dash. Shall we