Painting Rainbows

By Sue Lilley

"I was a fantasy. A nice memory. People like you don't need a pot of gold at the end of their rainbow."

A bittersweet short story for lovers of sensual contemporary romance - unique and captivating with an emotional twist you won't want to miss.

Mandy always adored Joel. But he was the local hot-boy and she was the schoolgirl barely on his radar. Their paths don't cross again until they're free and single young adults. They meet by chance in a picturesque seaside village, perfect for sizzling summer afternoons and endless sultry nights of newly discovered passion. They know instantly they're soulmates, destined to be lovers forever.

But life isn't like that. A curved ball is hurled right under their feet, wrenching them apart. Will real life conspire against them? Or can they find each other once again and live happily ever after? 

If you ever dreamed of finding your pot of gold, don't miss out. Click buy to start reading.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sue Lilley
• Release date: Jul 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781393885887

Book preview

Painting Rainbows

Painting Rainbows

Sue Lilley

Contents

News from Sue

A bittersweet bite-size romance.

More from Sue

News from Sue

Thanks from Sue

About Sue

Connect with Sue

Bonus Chapter – Whispered Wishes

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A bittersweet bite-size romance.

At the last minute, Joel couldn’t stay away. But now he’d parked at the designated spot, he felt dumb for going through with it. Mandy wouldn’t show up now. Why was he even bothering to wait?

His memory of her was achingly vibrant. Her wild hair flying in the wind as she danced across the meadow, purple tips glossy like ink. Her sublime scent of blackcurrants and fresh summer rain. Her flashing green eyes teasing him for doing his thing in the harbour.

When he’d rolled into Casey’s Cove, the summer before, he’d only been after road-trip supplies. But far from the sleepy fishing village he’d expected, there was a buzz and an up-beat vibe that had him deciding on a whim to park up and check out the trade.

The harbour was a picturesque hotchpotch of flower-bedecked cottages and toy-town boats, ripe for a quirky transformation on canvas. He set up his easel on the jetty and his deft hands were soon painting his trademark skyline of narrow liquorice-allsort houses, pulled and stretched like toffee, cartoonish black windows like sleeping eyes.

He always attracted a flock of tourists, drawn like moths to his gypsy-like flamboyance. His cash-flow depended on him working the captive audience and he had the drill off-pat. But that day, one girl stood back from the crowd. At first he thought she was probably shy and he was well up for the challenge of drawing her out. Then he saw she was biting back