Love Me Forever

By Kate Hofman

Lydia Hawthorne is a serious novelist, much to the disappointment of her mother. While laying the groundwork for her new book, her cousin Edward introduces her to Armando Monteverdi, a very handsome police lieutenant. As they are getting to know one another, he begins investigating the murder of her godmother.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DCL Publications
• Release date: Jun 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9780996495998

Kate Hofman

Born in The Netherlands, we went to live in London, England, when I was eighteen.BFA – Art History, Major. Interior Design, Minor.Moved to Montreal, Canada. (I figured I might as well be paid for being fluent in French). Married Arnold Hofman, a truly fabulous man. Owned and operated an art gallery for twelve years. Widowed ten years ago. Became friends with Nina Bruhns, who urged me to write.I did as I was told, and in the next five years I wrote two dozen books. I figured that’s what it would take to learn to write. And I was wrong!Rose Brungard took pity on me and gave unstintingly of her own expertise, sending long teaching e-mails, which helped me a lot.I also owe my grateful thanks to Thea Devine, who taught me to play “What If” when the writing isn’t going well.And more recently, I have been given generous help, encouragement and advice by Jennifer Mueller, a wonderful writer, who also provided the stunning cover art for all my books published by Romance At Heart. I owe you all so much.Sincerely,Kate Hofman

Book preview

LOVE ME FOREVER

Kate Hofman

DCL Publications, LLC

www.thedarkcastlelords.com

© 2016 Kate Hofman

All rights reserved

First Edition October 2016

DCL Publications

1033 Plymouth Dr.

Grafton, OH 44044

ISBN 978-0-9964959-9-8

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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

Cover design by Lynn Hubbard

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Prologue

Ocean Breeze, Florida

April

Lydia Hawthorne vaguely heard the Latin-American rhythm announcing a call on her cell phone. She quickly glanced to check the caller.

Mom again. Poor Mom, no doubt lonely, and she wasn’t a very interesting daughter for her, with a writing career that her mother didn’t much care for. She kept suggesting Lydia should give up on these serious books and write romance, which her mother could read and recommend to her friends…

Making sure she sounded cheerful, she said, Hi, Mom. Anything I can do for you?

She heard her mother’s excited little laugh. Oh-oh… this did not bode well. Mom was probably matchmaking again. Well, as long as it was all in her mother’s head, and she wasn’t required to meet the man…

I thought I’d invite my friend Vivian over to dinner.

That was not bad at all. Great idea, Mom…

To her dismay, she heard her mother interrupt. I’d like you to come as well, Lydia. She heard a deep breath, and then, Vivian is bringing her son, Gerard. I thought he would be nice company for you—not just tonight for dinner, but you and he might hit it off. A man of such excellent family background…

Lydia frowned, saying hastily, Mom, Gerard is universally despised as a womanizer who cannot keep his hands to himself. Putting it bluntly, he has twice been accused of raping a dinner-date. I’m sure it hastened his father’s death, having to find lawyers who could keep Gerard out of jail… No, Mom, definitely not. Moreover, I told you I’ve started a new book, and am knee-deep in research. She heard her mother’s irritated ‘Tsk’ sound, but ignored it and went on, Please, Mom, never again invite Gerard for me or for anyone. He is pure poison, and will only embarrass you mortally by behaviour that would shame the most vulgar punk.

Ignoring her mother’s scandalized, Lydia! she went on, I know you think the son of your friend has to be as wonderful as she is. Believe me when I tell you that the very opposite is true. All right, Mom? Anyway, having dinner with Vivian will be enjoyable, right? If you hurry, maybe you can persuade her to leave Gerard at home… She grinned briefly, and added, Mind you, once he finds there’s no one at dinner he can hit on, he’ll disappear fast enough.

Sensing her mother’s loneliness, she decided to talk a little longer, although she knew that nothing and no one could take her father’s place. They had been an unusually happy couple, and his death in a traffic accident had hit her mother very hard. Poor Mom. Widowed far too young, at fifty-three—a life of loneliness facing her. Lydia only put her phone down when she was sure her mother felt a bit better.

Instantly the Latin-American rhythm was heard again. Lydia frowned, and glanced at the ID. Her face cleared. It was her friend Mary Westwood.

Mary! she said. I’m glad you called, because I want to bounce an idea off you.

You’ve decided on your book? Lydia could hear the excitement in her friend’s voice.

She laughed. You say that as if I had half a dozen books in mind. Not so, Mary.

"Well, listen, come over, and to celebrate your new book, I’ll make us Bellinis."

Lydia smiled. If your invitation can be stretched to dinner time? And if you will make mine non-alcoholic? I need my wits about me when I’m talking about my book.

That goes without saying, hon. No booze when you’re working. See you around dinner time then.

Lydia’s smile widened. She and Mary had been friends since kindergarten, and in spite of considerable differences in character, they had remained friendly. Probably the fact that both of them had remained single was something to do with it. Most of her friends were married, and had different preoccupations.

She went to her desk and scooped up some papers. A thin beginning for a book, but at the moment these notes were all she had. She nodded to herself, putting the papers into her handbag. She was thinking that Mary would like the premise of the book.

Chapter 1.

When Lydia arrived at Mary’s house, she made a beeline for the big patio. True to expectations, Mary was stretched out on one of her loungers. Belatedly, Lydia hoped she hadn’t hit a day when her friend was preoccupied with work for her employer, Miss Caroline Baxter—a nice old lady who needed Mary to run her household. She smiled to herself. Not as late as five-thirty, apparently. Good.

Lydia—come here and give me a hug. You wouldn’t think I’ve been making birthday cakes, to see me lounging around here, but all the same, I’ve made two. I need just a few more minutes with them, and then I can tell the people to come and get them, Mary said. When she saw Lydia’s surprised glance, she went on, It was taking too much time for me to drive the cakes to their destinations, particularly when Miss Caroline needed more attention than usual. So I told my clients I could only make them if they would come to pick them up.

And they said ‘yes’ of course, Lydia guessed. Mary’s cakes were renowned, and eagerly sought. She had been making them for years, charging surprising fees for them.

Fifteen minutes later, the first of the cake-clients arrived, burying Mary under compliments, and eagerly waving her plastic. A bit later the second cake was also on its way.

* * * *

And now it’s your turn, Mary said. I’m dying to hear what your next book will be about.

Lydia sighed. I wanted to write about a woman who devotes her life to making an old lady’s life comfortable and protects her from her rapacious nephews and nieces who can hardly wait to get their hands on her money by way of their inheritance. I sure hope they will be deeply disappointed.

Oh, they will be, believe it! Mary said. The worst nephew thinks that Miss Caroline is half-witted, and speaks his mind very freely in her presence. The others know better, but hope he will be disinherited. Actually, it will all go to charity, and I for one shall be cheering.

Lydia nodded. "Good. Anyway, it seems to me that there