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Political strategist Glenda Nelson is having a meltdown. Her handpicked, very married Congressional candidate was just caught climbing out of the window of the Sleepytown Motel, and her philandering ex-husband seems to have the most to gain from the colossal scandal that follows. As Glenda attempts to salvage the campaign in a hotly contested race, conservative and liberal pundits pounce on the story to further their own agendas.
Glenda’s love life is nonexistent to say the least, that is, until she meets handsome artist Chris Goodrich. Chris’s easy-going, carefree outlook on life couldn’t be more different than the 90-mph crazy train that is Glenda’s, but the more time she spends with him, the more she craves his calming presence, his sexy smile, and his steamy embraces. Is Chris the one to take a chance on?
Between the pressure of full-blown spin control mode, rapidly declining job security, refereeing two teenagers, caring for aging parents, and spending hours on her therapist’s couch trying to get past her ex’s crushing betrayal, Glenda finds love and makes the long trek back to happy.
(Glenda talks to the new man in her life for the first time)
I hit the End button on my phone, went to the buffet table, and filled a Styrofoam plate with carrots, dip and those little wieners with pie crust around them. The carrots were rolling around and getting stuck in the dip, but one wiener kept moving and made a break for the lip of the plate. I dipped my elbow for counter balance. “Whoa!”
The errant hors d’oeuvre caught a wave and hopped right off the edge of my dish. It landed on a plate inches away. I turned to see who was on the receiving end of my dinner. Christopher Goodwich was looking at the weenie standing upright in his spinach dip.
“Sorry,” I said.
“You couldn’t do that again in a million years.”
I laughed. “You’re probably right. . . Glenda Nelson,” I said and shook his hand. “The painting is exquisite. Well worth all the work to raise your commission. I’m with the Democratic Committee.”
“I saw you on stage.” Goodwich chuckled. “Seventy-five even.”
When he laughed, the little wrinkles around Chris Goodwich’s eyes creased. His mouth was full of even, white teeth. He pulled his lips to one side when he smiled, and it made him look boyish.
He took a long look around the room over the heads of many of the guests as he was able to do at six feet and something. “I expected this unveiling to be filled with history types all asking me about the buttons on the uniforms.”
Author bio and links
Holly Bush was born in western Pennsylvania to two avid readers. There was not a room in her home that did not hold a full bookcase. Holly has been a marketing consultant to start-up businesses and has done public speaking on the subject.
Holly has been writing all of her life and is a voracious reader of a wide variety of fiction and non-fiction, particularly political and historical works. She writes historical romance set on the American Prairie and in Victorian England, and more recently, Contemporary Romance and Women’s Fiction. She frequently attends writing conferences, and has always been a member of a writer’s group.
Holly is a gardener, a news junkie, has been an active member of her local library board and loves to spend time near the ocean. She is the proud mother of two daughters and the wife of a man more than a few years her junior.