August Blues

By Amey Zeigler

As a daughter of a bestselling novelist, Annie Shaw is determined to establish herself as a romance author apart from her father's name. When a career-threatening review sends her on vacation at Deerbourne Inn, she wonders if she should quit writing.

Book critic Zane Barrett hates all things romance—especially novels. Every August, he travels to Willow Springs, Vermont, to cope with a loss he's never relinquished.

When the two meet in the idyllic town, even Zane admits they've fallen victim to love at first sight. But what will happen when Annie discovers her hated critic and the perfect man are one and the same?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Jan 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781509234431

Amey Zeigler

Amey Zeigler received her B.A. in Communication from University of Arizona. When she was nine years old, she started writing romantic mysteries and has been obsessed with the genre ever since. While attending university, she put her studies on hold to live in France and Switzerland for a year and a half. She lives with her husband and three children near Austin, Texas.

Book preview

Inc.

A thrill trilled through her. I met someone.

Someone, as in, a man?

Heart thundering, Annie surveyed the bungalows on the street. One never knew who eavesdropped in a small town. Was anyone gardening or retrieving the mail or walking the dog on this residential street? She checked again to make sure she was alone before speaking. Yeah, this guy owns a bookstore here. He loves my dad’s novels. A smile stole across her face at the memory of their meeting.

A lot of men do. Does he know you’re his daughter?

Yes. She hated when fans discovered her relationship to Hank Shaw. She never knew if they became friends because of her or because of her father. We had a moment, though. And weirdly enough, he invited me for dinner tonight. Her stomach flipped. Her hands trembled when she remembered his earnest gray eyes.

Oh? Did he rescue you from a burning building?

She stiffened her neck. What? Of course not. Why would you even ask? Although with his strong arms, he probably could save her.

Praise for Amey Zeigler

"[AUGUST BLUES] was a cute quick read!"

~Sara Budd

~*~

"I really loved [AUGUST BLUES]! I was immediately drawn into the story."

~Michelle

~*~

Love love loved this story.

~Kristie G.

August Blues

by

Amey Zeigler

Deerbourne Inn

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.

August Blues

COPYRIGHT © 2021 by Amey Zeigler

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Jennifer Greeff

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2021

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-3443-1

Deerbourne Inn

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To Alyssa Zeigler, my wonderful sister-in-law,

who asked me to write a heartwarming romance

Acknowledgments

When my sister-in-law challenged me to write a plain romance that wasn’t a comedy or an action-packed mystery, I took her request seriously. So first off, thank you to Alyssa who gave me this suggestion.

Thank you to my editor, Leanne Morgena, for her never-ending patience with me and who has helped me learn so much with my writing. Thank you to the cover artist, Jennifer Greeff, who captured the spirit of the book perfectly.

A huge thank you to my family, especially my mom, who helps me comb through these manuscripts for errors, and my husband, who supports me with more than just words, and to my kids, who keep me creative.

Thank you to all my beta readers and ARC readers who help me spot my mistakes. And I couldn’t do this without you, dear readers, who make sharing my heart so worth it. Thank you for reading and enjoying my words.

Chapter 1

Excitement tickled Annie Shaw’s empty stomach. In the pre-dawn light curling under the covers in her cozy studio apartment in New York City, she awaited a review of her latest title, Romance on the Riviera—the first novel in a trilogy to be released six months apart.

Thanks to recent positive publicity of Annie’s previous titles, her agent, Janice Pettigrew, scored this review from the exclusive online literary journal, The Stand, and promised to call when it went live.

Yet Annie couldn’t wait. Her laptop hummed in the dimmed light. She refreshed her browser for the Monday edition. If the review propelled her into the spotlight and up the bestseller lists, she could finally reveal herself to her father as N.E. Reid, the romantic suspense novelist.

The edition popped up in her browser. At last. Biting her lip, she searched for her title. Her cover featured a strong male with dark hair and a gorgeous jaw. In his hulking arms, he embraced a woman with blonde hair blowing in the sea breeze under the glow of the dwindling orange twilight. Emblazoned under the title was her name—her pen name.

With a contented smile, she cozied under her lilac-scented duvet and clicked on the cover. Her reviews had always been a positive treat and the pay-off for the long nights spinning her dreams into reality.

With ten romantic suspense titles under her belt, she positioned herself to move off the mid-list to a spot on The New York Times best seller list. She needed a visible slam dunk. This was her moment!

But her eyes blurred on the small print. She must be reading the wrong review. She checked the title again. Hot pain knifed her stomach. " ‘Sentimental drivel?’ The sleeping pigeons fluttered outside her window. She almost dropped her laptop. ‘Unrealistic expectations in women? Fantasy?’ " In a whisper, she reread the whole review with her insides burning.

" ‘Romance on the Riviera is for the highly estrogenic audience who enjoys sentimental drivel. In a whirlwind romance, two unlikely characters find themselves thrown together in the splendor of the French Riviera with nothing more in common than their desire for romance and to solve a contrived mystery. Predictably, they set out on a quest to uncover their endless infatuation by rescuing their kidnapped friend. While following tenuous clues, they reveal themselves in heart-to-heart chats while ambling along sandy beaches. Anyone can fall in love in such manipulated circumstances. I hoped for a plot to accompany the swapping of trite phrases barely passing as over-done banter, but alas, only a thin trail of evidence and the barest resemblance of intrigue sufficed for a story. The author, N.E. Reid, creates unrealistic expectations for women when her hero sacrifices everything for his lover, of course, at great personal expense. Not only does this damage relationships everywhere, they are harmful and disingenuous to men. This novel would be better shelved under fantasy, as I guarantee you, no men in real life would condescend to act the way Reid’s characters do. A word of warning: Men, don’t let the women in your life read this book; if you do, you’ll be sorry all the days of your short, miserable lives. And women: be warned; real men do not act like this.’ "

A door slammed upstairs.

Her heartbeat quickened, and adrenaline rushed heat to her face. Sitting up in her bed, she prepared for a fight. She clenched her jaw until her teeth hurt. Who would write such a review? Not just condemning her book, but the whole romance genre!

A buzz sounded. Pulse rushing, Annie caught up the phone. Hello.

Did you see this piece of trash?

Without her coffee, Janice didn’t have much tact. A strange gurgle rose from Annie’s throat. How could I not? Sure she was mistaken, she reread the paragraph. But the words taunted her in pixelated black and white.

You okay? Janice asked.

When the urge to fight subsided, sinking doubt crept in, smothering all other emotion. This book was supposed to be her breakout novel—her best work, her magnum opus, the start of a new record-breaking series. She researched the French Riviera for years. The next book in the series was slated to be released in six months. And yet, here was this review. I’m a fraud. I can’t write.

It’s just one person’s opinion.

"A person who writes for The Stand. Annie almost whined. They are the most read reviews on the planet. The journal is one of the biggest taste-makers of the literary world."

"Yeah, but they also panned Twilight."

Annie gulped.

"If you have to read The Stand to form opinions about books, then you don’t have many friends."

Annie rolled her eyes. That wasn’t true. What kind of person writes such a review?

An honest one.

Janice!

"I’m not saying I agree with him. Clearly, this person has issues. I’m saying he has the cojones to say what he thinks, even if it’s unkind."

You assume it’s a man. She gripped the phone tighter.

Did I?

Probably an old, decrepit man who has never known an ounce of love or human decency or romance in his life. I can just imagine him with giant white hair protruding out of his nose like cactus thorns, poring over his coffee, as black and bitter as his soul, and chuckling in a dark whisper while writing bile on his computer. She cackled at the image. However, it didn’t ease the hole in her heart. This book was the best manuscript I have ever written. I can’t release the next one.

Sure, you can.

What a horrible launch to the series. On the brink of tears, Annie’s voice wavered.

Your next book will be better.

Sitting back, she thrust a pillow over her head. The scent of the lilacs masked the mildewy stench emanating from the pipes in her ancient apartment. I don’t know if I can release the next one.

Yes, you will.

Janice spoke with intimidating force.

"It’s under contract. And Revenge on the Riviera is coming out in six months."

Annie raised the pillow to speak. Not after this. It cuts me to the very core.

The review is only opinion, not truth.

Thankfully, her tone softened.

Anytime you try to be or do something great, people will always tear you down.

Annie returned to the screen. Everything she’d ever worked for was ruined. At least her father didn’t know she was N. E. Reid. Her mind eased, and her jaw relaxed. She exhaled.

Any time you want to up your clout, you only have to write under your real name.

Grimacing, Annie shook her head. I refuse to use my father’s name to win accolades and get ahead in New York. She couldn’t live up to his name, anyway. People would constantly compare them. And she would come up short.

Perhaps, one day she could tell him. Of all the careers she could’ve chosen, she followed in his footsteps, but only after she earned her success as he had. How his eyes would shine with respect and admiration. She could stop being his writing assistant and write full-time on her own manuscripts. But she wanted to do it when she was successful, accomplished, well-known, and praised. Not like this.

"I’m just saying, marketing the daughter of a New York Times number one, bestselling author would be so easy."

Annie rolled her eyes and dabbed them with a folded tissue. Yes, everyone knows my father—the brilliant horror writer, Hank Shaw. She bit her lip. His success came at a steep price.

You could co-author a book.

No. Annie gulped down a rising lump in her throat. Heaviness weighed on her chest. I don’t know if I can write anything after this. I’m done. Pull the books.

Janice tsked. Don’t be ridiculous. It would be a breach of contract. Silence lengthened. You know what you need to do? Stop being your father’s writing assistant. All your creative energy funnels to his books.

I can’t stop. That job pays the rent. Annie bit her nail, hiding under the covers. At least Janice couldn’t see her.

Then have more confidence in your own writing. I’ve got an idea.

Annie groaned at Janice’s excited tone. As her agent, Janice supported her for years as a budding writer. Years turned a working relationship into a keen friendship. But Janice couldn’t solve all her problems.

You need a vacation. You’d been working hard on these edits, pushing yourself to finish these three novels in record time. You need a break from New York, from the city, and, most importantly, from people. Get away from all these opinions and from writing. Connecting with nature will revitalize you, help you refocus, and shake off the negativity.

If only there was an out-of-the-way place where I could go. Rolling out the ache in her neck, Annie padded into the kitchen to throw away her