Read Saved by the Bride Online
Authors: Fiona Lowe
Saved by the Bride
Saved by the Bride
By Fiona Lowe
Welcome
to
Whitetail
,
Wisconsin
,
future
home
of
Weddings
that
WOW!
As acting mayor, Annika Jacobson will do anything to revive
the economy of the town that’s been her refuge ever since her art career
imploded and her fiancé walked out. Even if it means crashing an engagement
party to talk business with the bride’s billionaire father. But the evening
starts with a kiss from a gorgeous stranger—and ends with a night in jail.
Finn Callahan can’t believe his sister is getting married,
not after their parents’ disastrous track record. And he’d rather be anywhere
than working from his family’s vacation home. Until he catches a leggy blonde
sneaking in the window, and suddenly telecommuting for the season is very
appealing.
Unable to resist their mutual attraction, Annika and Finn are
soon mixing business and pleasure—just for the summer. Too bad Annika’s heart
missed the memo about not falling in love…
Book
one
of
Wedding
Fever
.
99,000 words
Dear Reader,
April is when the romance conference season really starts to
get busy for me. Every spring, I attend the
RT
Book
Reviews
convention, a gathering of about 500
authors, readers and publishing professionals who come together to celebrate
their love of both romance and genre fiction. Each year, I come away from that
conference, and the many others I attend that are focused on the love of books
(like the Lori Foster Reader Get Together in Ohio), with a renewed enthusiasm
for diving back into my to-be-read pile. As well as a long list of authors and
books to add to that to-be-read pile! But because it’s a busy travel time of
year for me, that also means more time on the plane and in airports for
reading.
Maybe you’re like me—traveling to conferences and in need of
some plane reading. Or maybe you just need one more book to add to your
to-be-read pile. Possibly you’ve got a newborn baby who keeps you up at night
and gets you up early in the morning, and you need something you can read on the
ereader in one hand while the baby is in the other. Or perhaps you’re just in
search of a good book. You’re in luck; our April books can fill all those
needs!
The first book in our newest genre addition, New Adult,
releases this month. If you love contemporary romance, sports romance, a
(mostly) Jewish, spunky heroine and a hero who will make your heart melt, you’ll
want to read
Rush
Me
by debut author Allison Parr.
This month, I’m pleased to introduce the first book in a
six-book series written by four authors. Ginny Glass, Christina Thacher, Emily
Cale and Maggie Wells kick off a series of contemporary romance short story
collections with
Love
Letters
Volume
1
:
Obeying
Desire
. Each volume will center around a different
seriously sexy theme. I’ll bet you can’t guess what the theme of the first
volume is, with a title like
Obeying
Desire
! Look for the second volume,
Love
Letters
Volume
2
:
Duty
to
Please
, releasing in May 2013.
Fans of contemporary romance will enjoy
Saved
by
the
Bride
, the first book in a new trilogy by RITA®
Award-winning author Fiona Lowe. Who knew that being a klutz and combining it
with a distrust of wedding bouquets could lead to a black eye?
Joining Fiona and Allison in the contemporary romance
category is Kate Davies, with
Cutest
Couple
, book two in Kate’s high-school reunion
trilogy, Girls Most Likely to… Look for the conclusion of the trilogy,
Life
of
the
Party
, in May 2013.
Co-authors Anna Leigh Keaton and Madison Layle deliver
another scorching Puma Nights story with
Falke’s
Renegade
, while Jodie Griffin joins them in heating
up your ereader with her third erotic BDSM Bondage & Breakfast book,
Forbidden
Fires
.
On the paranormal and science fiction front, we have a number
of titles for fans. Veteran author Kate Pearce begins a new series with
Soul
Sucker
, in which
Moonlighting
meets
The
X
-
Files
in San Francisco
Bay and two worlds collide. Kat Cantrell, winner of Harlequin’s 2011 So You
Think You Can Write contest, joins Carina Press with her first science fiction
romance,
Mindlink
, while returning author Eleri
Stone gives us another jaguar shifter in
Lost
City
Shifters
:
Rebellion
,
book three in this compelling series.
Clockwork
Mafia
by Seleste deLaney brings us back to the
Western steampunk world of
Badlands
. Inventor
Henrietta Mason is retiring from airships and adventuring to return home to
Philadelphia. Determined to erase all trails leading to her late father’s
duplicity, she dismantles his lab and removes all records of the Badlands gold.
And last but certainly not least in the paranormal category,
Night
of
the
Dark
Horse
by Janni Nell continues the adventures of
Allegra Fairweather, paranormal investigator.
This month, Bronwyn Stuart follows up her fantastic debut
historical romance,
Scandal’s
Mistress
, with her unique regency romance,
Behind
the
Courtesan
, featuring—you guessed it—a courtesan
heroine.
On the non-romance side, Jean Harrington brings us the third
Murders by Design cozy mystery installment,
Killer
Kitchens
.
And joining Carina Press with an epic fantasy trilogy, Angela
Highland tells the story of a half-elven healer with no control over her magic.
Faanshi has always been a pawn of the powerful, but after healing two mysterious
and very different men, she faces a choice that may decide the fate of a whole
kingdom. If you love fantasy, pick up
Valor
of
the
Healer
, book one in the Rebels of Adalonia
trilogy.
As you can see, April is full of books to distract you
wherever you are, whatever you’re supposed to be doing, and even if you have a
baby in your arms. I hope you enjoy these titles as much as we’ve enjoyed
working on them.
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your
thoughts, comments and questions to
[email protected]
.
You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter
stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
Dedication
To my family who support and believe in me even when the “Crows
of Doubt” are pecking wildly.
To Joan, Nicola and Rachael who are always
on
the end of an email and happy to listen and to brainstorm with
me.
Many thanks to Rechelle for her passionate, patient and
detailed descriptions of thermography, and for an insight into the intricacies
of wedding invitations. Any errors in the story are mine.
To Serena for the cheerleading and grammar assistance.
Mega thanks to Charlotte whose perspective smoothes out the
kinks in the manuscript and helps my characters shine.
Contents
Chapter One
Who knew that being a klutz and combining it with a
distrust of wedding bouquets could lead to a black eye?
Annika Jacobson automatically touched the four-day-old
berry-colored bruise with its spectacular vivid yellow edges with the tips of
her fingers as if that would will it away.
“Stop it.” Nicole Lindquist from Whitetail’s Affairs with Hair
leaned forward and captured her hand. “I’ve concealed it with makeup but if you
keep tapping it with your fingers, you’ll ruin all my hard work.”
“Sorry.” For the thousandth time in ninety-six hours, Annika
asked herself why she hadn’t just caught the damn flowers. Everyone outside the
old Whitetail church knew that Jennifer would throw her bouquet to her best
friend and they’d all discreetly taken a step back so it could happen. She’d
known it too and had thought she was up for the task but at the last minute
she’d panicked and moved sideways, thinking it would leave Melissa wide open for
the catch. In her own inimitable, uncoordinated style, she’d misjudged it
completely and the only thing she’d caught was a wad of firmly packed tulip
stems to the cheek. Stems which packed a hell of a punch. All in all it had
capped off a day she’d been dreading for months.
Not that she didn’t think Jennifer’s marriage was a good idea,
it totally was. Jennifer, unlike herself, had been born to be married and Carl
was a great guy, but their wonderful wedding, where the town had made them
celebrities for the day, had been their last day in Whitetail. They too had
joined the parade that led out of town toward jobs in Madison, Milwaukee, the
Twin Cities and beyond. Their departure made the economic situation very real
and meant that after a decade, she was the only member of her graduating class
still living in Whitetail. Financially, she was barely holding on herself
because personalized calligraphy was a luxury few in town could now afford and
her almost nonexistent bank account had her seriously worried. Reggies, the
biggest employer in the town, had been shedding jobs for a year and had now
pulled out completely. The business park lay idle and her beloved town was
shriveling before her eyes—slowly languishing on the curve of a pristine
northwoods lake.
Sadly, beauty and fresh air didn’t pay the bills and the town
desperately needed a new industry to survive. She thought of her two overdue
rent notices and knew deep in her heart she needed a regular job to survive. A
job so she could stay in Whitetail where she belonged.
“I’m just nervous, is all.” She glanced around at the other
four expectant faces, the core group of the Whitetail Chamber of Commerce who’d
joined her in the limousine for moral support. At least they thought it was
moral support. Annika felt it was more along the lines of making sure she didn’t
back out of “the plan.” Just the thought of “the plan” made her sick to her
stomach so she tried to joke. “At least this party’s full of out-of-staters and
no one will have read about my epic failure in
The
Bugle
.”
Melissa Bergeron, the owner of the Northern Lights Boutique and
the woman who’d lent Annika the evening dress she was now wearing, made a funny
face as if she was trying not to laugh.
“What?”
“They might have seen it in the online edition.”
Annika’s stomach rolled on acid and not much else. “Since when
does
The
Bugle
have an online edition? I thought Eric was
still learning how to use the Guttenberg press?”
“His grandson, Joshua, is home for the summer and as part of
his IT project to get the seniors online, he’s taken the paper to the web,
complete with a subscription deal,” said John Ackerman, the proprietor of
Whitetail Market and Video. “This week’s the inaugural edition and Jennifer’s
wedding video is the first click-through feature.”
“Joshua’s wonderful and he made everyone at the center have a
practice,” said Ella Norell, a vibrant senior with a passion for gardening and
cake decorating. “Anni, you looked quite pretty before you sprawled on the
grass.”
Annika almost dropped her head into her hands before realizing
she wasn’t allowed to do that because it would ruin her hair and makeup. Life
was so much easier wearing her ink-stained jeans and pulling her hair back in a
ponytail. So she gave a shuddering sigh instead as that was the only option open
to her. After twenty-nine years she knew she couldn’t hide how uncoordinated she
was from her small hometown, but the world didn’t need to know.
The
internet
knows
. “Oh, God, why did it go live this week? The
video’s probably been uploaded everywhere and someone at the party will have
seen it.”
Nicole nodded in sympathy. “Don’t worry. Just think of it as
more of your exemplary community service.”
When Annika was twelve and on a 4-H hike, she’d organized a
group of girls to carry out an injured Sally Tomie on a stretcher made of
sweaters. On their arrival back in Whitetail, both the town and her
often-distracted parents had gushed with pride. Annika had been “helping out”
ever since.
“Me being suckered by treacherous tulips wasn’t part of any
plan to get Whitetail on the map.”
Neither was the town’s current plan of having her gate-crash an
engagement party hosted by the head of AKP Industries from Chicago, which was
being held at his vacation house on Lake Whitetail. Sean Callahan’s company had
bought the business park from Reggies and as the mayor’s volunteer assistant,
she’d made numerous telephone calls, sent emails and even snail-mail letters
requesting an appointment to discuss the future plans for the park. Without a
business plan the town would die and she was determined not to let that happen.
She’d put in hours of work but all she’d got back was silence. Utter,
devastating silence.
At an emergency town meeting held two days ago when then-mayor,
Donna Wakeen, had unexpectedly blown off the town by running away to Chicago to
a job that paid, Annika had suddenly found herself appointed acting mayor
despite a thousand reservations of her own including the accusatory internal
voice that said,
You
need
to
focus
on
your
career
.
She’d silenced the voice, accepted the temporary position and
while looking for a way to move forward, she’d posed the general question, “What
is Whitetail good at?”
The town, on a post-wedding high, had replied exactly that.
Weddings.
Nicole had told everyone how Hobin, Wisconsin, had been
successful with weddings and they only had a red barn for receptions. Annika had
pointed out that surely Wisconsin only needed
one
small town for weddings. Nicole had enthusiastically argued that as Whitetail
was close to the Minnesota border, they were in the perfect position to attract
couples from Minneapolis/Saint Paul and they had a lot more to offer than a
barn. Then she’d waved a glossy magazine article about Bridget Callahan’s
engagement.
Despite John Ackerman’s opinion of the family—“worst
vacationers ever. They never spend a cent in the town”—suddenly everyone was
pushing Annika to use Donna’s invitation to attend the engagement party and go
convince the bride-to-be to have her wedding in Whitetail.
“It will put us on the map just like Chelsea Clinton did for
Rhinebeck,” Mrs. Norell had claimed, and the town had enthusiastically
agreed.
Annika thought the plan to be utterly insane. The daughter of a
billionaire who’d never supported Whitetail wouldn’t even consider getting
married in a tiny northwoods town. No, she’d be having a glitz-and-glamour
wedding at a venue like Chicago’s Museum of Contemporary Art.
Just
like
yours
was
going
to
be
.
She banished the thought so fast she almost gave herself
whiplash. The town’s outrageous wedding plan wasn’t hers. Whitetail needed real
jobs with a long-term future but as Sean Callahan hadn’t accepted any of her
offers to take a meeting, she had no choice but to resort to gate-crashing his
daughter’s party. When she finally did meet him, she wouldn’t be talking about
weddings—she’d be talking about the business park and the future of
Whitetail.
Al, the owner-driver of Whitetail’s Feel Like a Star car and
carriage service, brought the limousine to a halt near a clearing in the dense
pine trees. He turned to them and said, “The gates of the Callahan property are
just up ahead. The four of you need to get out and I’ll collect you all after
I’ve delivered Anni to the front door.”
Annika’s heart kicked up. This crazy plan was actually
happening.
Breathe
in
,
breathe
out
,
breathe
in
,
breath
out
.
Nicole, her eyes shining and with a smile that broke through
the strain of grief which had circled her since the start of the year, tucked a
stray strand of Annika’s hair into place and gave her face a final dust of
powder. “Don’t be nervous. We’ve made you look so amazing we hardly recognize
you. You’re going to fit right in with those Chicago socialites.”
Mrs. Norell added, “Anni, just remember Tess in the movie
Working
Girl
. She gate-crashed a wedding and talked
business. Oh, Harrison Ford was gorgeous back then.”
Annika was too stressed to point out
that
was the movies and the eighties, where as this was real life.
Her real life.
John gave her a supporting smile tinged with hubris. “You might
mention that my fruit and vegetables are equal to what their cook brings in from
Chicago.”
“John, she’s going to be talking about weddings,” said Melissa
as she adjusted the strapless dress. “Tell Miss Callahan I can order in any
number of wedding dresses.”
“Out,” Al said firmly. “Leave the poor girl alone.”
They scrambled across the seats and out into the sweet evening
air and a minute later Al drove the vehicle through the open and imposing gates
with their monogrammed
K
in the center, up the long
drive and came to a stop halfway around the circle. As he opened the door for
her, he said in his best chauffeur’s voice, “This is the Callahan’s cabin on the
lake.”
She gave him a tight smile. “Thanks, Al.”
The property was closer to the town by boat than by car and
she’d never been here before. She moistened her lips and stepped out, and as she
was smoothing down her dress it hit her that not only was she a walking example
of the Whitetail Chamber of Commerce, she carried the expectations of the entire
town on her now bare and nervous shoulders. Her stomach spun like the spin cycle
of the washing machine she couldn’t afford. Why had she let the town talk her
into this?
Jobs
and
the
future
.
Your
future
.
As she watched the limo pull away and disappear down the wide
sweep of driveway, she took in a deep breath and turned to face the Callahans’
lakeside cabin. She instantly wondered if the rich took pleasure in irony. She
supposed a small and simple fishing cabin might have existed once, but not
anymore. The setting sun cast a golden glow on an imposing classic American
house with a silvery-gray cedar-shake exterior, white windows and a shingled
roof, and it reminded her of an era long passed. Four enormous stone chimneys
rose majestically but only those with an eye for detail and some knowledge of
architecture could tell they also marked the spot where the original house ended
and the huge modern extension started.
The house—Kylemore, according to its copper nameplate—loomed
above her, its steeply pitched roof dwarfing her and her bravado.
She smoothed down her dress and squared her shoulders. She
could do this.
Then she laid eyes on the headset-adorned security guard. Her
stomach lurched so hard it almost tugged her sideways.
Crap
.
Security
. It hadn’t occurred to
her to factor that into her plans.
A tremble started in her toes but then, out of nowhere, part of
the 4-H pledge rolled through her brain, stalling the wobble at her knees.
I
pledge
my
heart
to
clearer
thinking
. She took in a calming breath, letting the
sight of the sparkling water on the lake soothe her. As steadily as one can in
three-inch heels, she walked purposefully to the front door with her head held
high and a smile pasted on her face. “Good eve—”
“Name.”
The security guard barked out the word so loudly, so
unexpectedly and so very un-Wisconsin-like, that she wavered precariously on her
heels as her composure fled. “Ann...Donna Wakeen.”
Damn
,
damn
,
damn
. She stifled a groan. She’d
practiced over and over what she needed to say and now the first time she’d
opened her mouth she’d gone and fluffed it.
Distract
with
chitchat
. She smiled again and this time her cheeks
ached as she tried to keep the edge of anxiety out of her voice. “You must be
from Chicago.”
A grunt was all she got as he studied his clipboard and
followed with, “You’re not on the list.”
I’m
not
on
the
list
!
Don’t
panic
yet
. She opened the ridiculously small but
exquisitely beaded evening purse and pulled out a folded piece of thick,
embossed paper. Paper she knew cost a fortune because a calligraphy client had
once asked her to price it. “Here’s my invitation.”